UC-NRLF 


*B    2T3    fi^3 


Observtions  of 


a  . ;  s, 


By  Private  E.  A.  T 


MA      0  1920 


GIFT   OF 


£  {2.^au^,ML>-*-*l 


PRIVATE  EDWARD  ALVA  TRUEBLOOD 


Observations  of  an  American  Soldier  During 
His  Service  With  the  A.  E.  F.  in  France 


In  the 

Flash  Ranging 

Service 

by 

Private  Edward  Alva  Trueblood 


Press   of 
THE    NEWS    PUBLISHING    COMPANY 

Sacramento,  California 
1919 


■a 


•   • 


•••••• 


'I  pledge  allegiance  to  my  Flag  and  to 
the  Republic  for  which  it  stands  — 
one  nation,  indivisible,  with  liberty 
and  justice  for  all." 


This  book  is  a  record  of  the  personal 
observations  of  a  private  soldier  in 
the  Flash  Ranging  Service  of  the 
American  Expeditionary  Forces  In 
France.  It  not  only  relates  his  ex- 
periences while  In  France,  but  also 
tells  of  going  over  and  returning.  In 
brief,  it  is  a  soldier's  story  from  the 
time  he  left  America  to  help  crush 
the  autocracy  of  Germany,  until  he 
returned  again  after  fighting  was  over. 


411475 


<tf 


yj^ 


X 


Contents 


Chapter  Page 

I.  Going  Over  1 

II.  Our  First  Glimpse  of  France 10 

III.  From  Brest  to  Langres 18 

IV.  Nearing  the  Front 29 

V.  Preparation  for  Battle 37 

VI.  The  Great  St.  Mihiel  Drive 42 

VII.  Gassed  54 

VIII.  Hospital  Experiences    63 

IX.  Home  Again   72 


i    ..   nd  — c  I  ''■    a  g 


In  the  Flash  Ranging  Service 


By  Private  Edward  Alva  Trueblood 


Chapter   I. 
Going  Over. 

When  the  sun  arose  on  the  22nd  of  June,  1918,  three 
great  transports  were  lying  out  in  the  stream  of  New 
York  harbor.  They  were  filled  with  American 
soldiers  for  duties  overseas.  They  were  well  camou- 
flaged and  well  convoyed.  The  previous  afternoon  they 
had  pulled  away  from  a  Jersey  City  pier,  where  they  had 
taken  on  their  human  cargoes,  and  they  were  undoubt- 
edly under  sealed  orders.  They  had  slipped  away  quietly 
from  the  t>iers  without  attracting  undue  attention,  and 
while  they  moved  to  the  location  where  they  anchored 
for  the  night,  not  a  soldier's  uniform  could  have  been 
detected  from  shore  even  after  the  most  scrutinizing 
search  with  the  best  binoculars  obtainable.  The  de- 
parture wa«?  made  without  a  word  of  warning  and  not 
a  fond  good-bye.  It  was  accomplished  with  a  methodical 
silence  that  called  for  admiration.  It  is  the  way  Uncle 
Sam  does  things  during  war  times. 

Just  before  9  o'clock  on  that  beautiful  June  morning, 
simultaneously  but  without  communicating  with  each 
other,  each  of  those  transports  began  to  weigh  anchor, 
and  except  for  the  click,  click,  click  of  the  machinery 
all  was  silent.  Precisely  at  9:05,  without  the  blast  of  a 
whistle,  the  sound  of  a  gong,  or  the  hoisting  of  a 
signal  flag  on  the  mast,  but  like  so  many  automatic 
machines,  these  vessels  turned  their  prows  to  the  sea 
and  began  their  long  voyage. 

One 


t  ;Am,ofig  those  who  sailed  on  one  of  the  vessels  of  this 
transport  fleet  were  the  members  of  the  Twenty-ninth 
Engineers,  A.  E.  F.,  of  which  I  was  a  member,  being 
attached  to  Company  C.  Our  departure  was  an  occasion 
never  to  be  forgotten, 

As  we  glided  out  of  the  great  harbor  and  saw  first 
the  Statue  of  Liberty,  then  all  trace  of  our  native  land 
disappear  from  sight,  and  we  realized  that  we  were  on 
our  way  to  fight  the  most  savage,  inhuman  and  dispic- 
able  foe  that  has  ever  drawn  a  lance,  a  feeling  of  solemn 
thoughtfulness  came  over  most  of  the  boys.  Many  of 
them  were  so  affected,  as  they  knew  a  certain  percent- 
age of  us  must  inevitably  fall  in  battle,  that  they  went 
below  to  spend  a  few  hours  by  themselves  in  serious 
thought.  I  am  not  ashamed  to  say  that  I  was  one  of 
those  who  sought  solace  for  my  feelings  in  thoughtful 
solitude. 

The  vessel  upon  which  we  sailed  was  an  Italian  trans- 
port, by  name,  the  "King  of  Italy."  It  was  accompanied 
by  a  French  and  a  former  German  liner  and  was  convoyed 
by  a  destroyer  and  a  cruiser.  On  the  second  day  out 
we  picked  up  four  more  transports,  making  seven  in  all 
in  ©ur  fleet. 

There  were  1,500  American  soldiers  on  our  transport 
and  approximately  the  same  on  four  of  the  other  trans- 
ports. Two  of  them,  however,  carried  more  than  3,500 
men,  making  a  total  of  about  15,000  men  on  that  one 
fleet  bound  for  duty  overseas.  Of  the  1,500  men  on  the 
King  of  Italy,  500  were  white  and  1,000  colored  troops. 
No  trouble  was  caused  by  this  mixture  of  races  because 
of  good  management.  The  white  and  colored  boys  were 
kept  on  different  parts  of  the  boat  and  all  guard  duty 
was  in  the  hands  of  the  white  troops. 

For  the  first  few  hours  after  sailing,  thoughts  of 
home  lingered  in  the  minds  of  most  of  the  boys,  but 
these  were  hastily  banished  when  we  had  our  first  life 

Two 


drill.  This  took  place  at  2  o'clock  on  our  first  day  out. 
The  drill  was  a  thorough  one,  and  it  soon  became  appar- 
ent to  most  of  the  boys  that  even  if  we  should  be  tor- 
pedoed by  a  submarine  while  going  across,  our  troops 
would  have  no  difficulty  in  getting  away  from  the  boat 
before  it  took  its  final  plunge  toward  the  bottom  of  the 
sea.  In  the  life  drill,  every  man  had  his  place.  He  was 
assigned  to  a  certain  boat  and  could  take  no  other. 
The  lower  decks  were  emptied  first,  and  then  those 
above,  one  at  a  time.  I  was  bunked  on  the  fifth  deck, 
hence,  as  the  liner  had  six  decks,  would  have  been 
among  the  last  to  leave  the  ship,  in  case  of  disaster. 

The  object  of  the  life  drill,  of  course,  was  to  make  it 
possible  to  empty  the  boat  of  troops  quickly  and  in 
military  order  in  the  event  that  the  boat  became  a  sub- 
marine victim.  Every  man  was  instructed  at  the  sound 
of  the  alarm  to  go  to  his  bunk  and  stand  there  until 
given  further  orders.  In  the  meantime,  he  was  to  put 
on  his  life  belt.  The  boys  marched  out  to  the  life  boats 
only  when  they  received  orders  from  their  superiors  to 
do  so.  After  a  few  drills,  we  mastered  the  manoeuver 
and  it  would  have  been  possible  for  us  to  have  emptied 
that  boat  of  1,500  soldiers  in  twelve  minutes,  if  such 
action  had  been  necessary. 

We  had  life  drills  two  or  three  times  a  day  all  the  way 
across.  The  signal  for  the  drill  was  four  siren  blasts, 
and  when  we  heard  those  blasts,  there  was  a  lively  time 
on  deck  for  a  few  minutes,  until  the  ship,  in  theory,  had 
been  abandoned. 

American  people,  who  believe  in  giving  their  soldiers 
the  right  kind  of  treatment,  and  particularly  wholesome 
food,  would  have  been  righteously  indignant,  if  they 
could  have  known  how  poorly  we  were  fed  while  on 
that  transport.  Those  at  home  were  buying  Liberty 
Bonds  and  paying  heavy  war  taxes  so  that  the  boys  in 
the  fighting  forces  would  be  well  fed  and  clothed,  and 

Three 


yet,  it  is  hard  to  imagine  how  men  could  have  been 
treated  worse,  so  far  as  food  is  concerned  than  were  the 
men  of  this  boat.  I  am  going  to  be  just  as  frank  as  I 
know  how  in  describing  food  conditions  with  the  hope 
that  by  calling  public  attention  to  this  petty  graft,  such 
practices  will  be  stopped,  so  far  as  American  fighting 
men  are  concerned.  To  any  who  have  weak  stomachs, 
I  suggest  that  they  skip  over  the  next  two  or  three 
pages,  as  the  details  may  nauseate  them. 

The  kitchens  and  mess  rooms  of  the  transport  were 
on  the  top  deck.  Meal  tickets  were  issued  to  the  men, 
and  when  they  went  to  mess,  the  tickets  were  punched. 
This  is  the  way  the  Government  kept  track  of  the  nun- 
ber  of  meals  served,  as  these  tickets  were  collected  when 
we  left  the  boat.  The  white  men  were  fed  first,  and  the 
colored  troopers  afterwards.  This  was  done  so  as  to 
keep  free  of  any  possibility  of  racial  trouble,  and  appar- 
ently it  worked  well. 

After  the  second  day  out,  our  "chow,"  which  is  the 
soldier's  name  for  food  of  all  kinds,  was  vile.  It  con- 
sisted largely  of  spoiled  beef  and  such  foods  as  spoiled 
rabbits.  When  I  say  spoiled,  I  mean  just  what  the  word 
implies.  These  rabbits  were  positively  in  a  state  of 
decay.  They  had  been  in  cold  storage  for  a  long  time, 
evidently  a  very  long  time.  Thev  had  been  carried  in 
the  ice  boxes  without  being  drawn,  and  when  exposed 
to  the  air  the  odor  of  decay  was  so  strong  that  they 
were  positively  nauseating.  I  saw  strong  men  turn  ex- 
ceedingly sick  just  from  the  stench,  and  I  do  not  believe 
it  is  an  exaggeration  to  say  that  there  was  more  upset 
stomachs  on  that  trip  from  the  decaying  rabbits  that 
were  given  us  to  eat  than  from  the  action  of  the  sea. 

The  beef  that  we  were  given  consisted  of  only  the 
poorest  and  toughest  parts.  The  good  cuts  went  to  the 
mess  for  the  army  officers  and  for  the  officers  and 
crew  of  the  ship.    The  potatoes  that  we  were  fed  were 

Four 


the  poorest  that  I  have  ever  seen.  They  were  served 
about  half  cooked,  and  were  small,  wet,  soggy  and  un- 
palatable. It  was  seldom  that  a  potato  fit  fo  eat  was 
given  to  the  men.  We  received  rice  several  times,  but 
it  was  only  about  half  cooked.  During  one  meal  we 
were  given  bologne  sausage,  and  after  some  of  the  boys 
had  eaten  their  allotment,  the  discovery  wa*»  made  that 
the  sausage  was  full  of  maggots.  The  soup  was  like 
water  with  neither  flavor  nor  body.  The  bread  served 
was  Italian-French  bread  made  with  sour  dough,  and 
not  at  all  palatable  to  an  American,  who  has  been  accus- 
tomed to  sweet  and  wholesome  bread.  The  coffee  was 
of  the  poorest  quality — probably  mostly  chickory — and 
we  were  given  neither  milk  nor  sugar  for  it.  The  re- 
sult was  that  most  of  the  boys  did  not  touch  their  coffee 
at  all.  The  only  seasoning  given  our  food  was  an  in- 
sufficiency of  salt.  Everything  served  was  tasteless, 
unpalatable  and  unwholesome. 

That  there  was  better  food  on  the  boat,  we  knew,  fo»* 
we  could  see  it  going  to  the  officers'  tables.  They 
were  served  chicken  two  or  three  times  a  week — the 
men  never.  Officers  were  given  fresh  fruit  at  every 
meal — the  men  not  at  all.  Officers  were  given  palatable, 
sweet  bread;  the  men  only  when  they  would  pay  for 
it  out  of  their  own  pockets  and  then  at  a  big  price. 

It  is  my  opinion  that  the  owners  of  the  boat  on  which 
I  sailed  made  an  enormous  profit  off  those  meals  served 
to  the  soldiers.  Certainly  the  Government  would  not 
have  given  the  soldiers  such  unfit  food.  The  Govern- 
ment is  to  blame  to  this  extent,  however,  in  not  seeing 
that  the  ship  owners  lived  up  to  their  contract  to  feed 
the  men  properly.  There  was  a  man  on  board  who  was 
supposed  to  see  that  the  men  were  given  wholesome 
and  nourishing  food,  but  he  failed  absolutely  to  perform 
his  duty.  Whether  he  was  in  the  company's  pay  or 
simply  negligent,  I  cannot  say,  for  I  do  not  know.     But 

Five 


it  is  a  fact  that  he  did  not  perform  his  duty  and  1,500 
men  were  fed  spoiled  and  unnourishing  food  as  a  result. 
Men  who  indulge  in  "graft"  of  this  kind  are  no  better 
than  traitors,  and  should  be  treated  as  such  by  the 
Government. 

As  a  part  of  the  uneatable  diet  we  were  given,  numer- 
ous complaints  were  made.  We  were  not  long  in  being 
told  that  we  could  purchase  something  in  the  wav  of 
wholesome  food  for  ourselves,  if  we  had  the  money. 
This  was  done  on  the  sly.  We  could  purchase  a  palat- 
able steak  for  $1.50  or  $2,  or  we  could  get  chops  for 
about  the  same  price.  A  chicken  would  cost  about  $4. 
All  the  boys  who  had  money  were  forced  to  buy  food 
this  way  or  go  hungry.  Many  of  the  boys  ate  only 
enough  to  keep  them  alive.  Often  two  would  go  in  to- 
gether and  buy  a  steak  or  a  chicken,  each  putting  up 
half  of  the  money.  Even  then,  we  could  not  get  the 
food  we  wanted,  a*  only  a  limited  quantity  could  be 
"sneaked"  out. 

We  could  buy  sweet  bread  in  the  canteen  on  the 
boat  for  25  cents  a  loaf,  and  a  small  loaf  at  that.  That 
was  the  only  way  we  could  get  it.  Sweet  rolls,  the 
kind  that  sell  four  for  a  nickle  at  home,  cost  two  for  a 
nickle.  Oranges,  apples,  bananas  and  other  kinds  of 
fruit  cost  25  cents  each.  Unable  to  eat  the  food  in  the 
mess  room,  most  of  the  boys  had  to  pay  the  exorbitant 
prices  asked  at  the  canteen  or  go  hungry. 

We  had  no  sugar  at  all.  The  Government  must 
have  provided  a  sugar  ration  for  us,  so  my  conclusion 
is  that  it  was  stolen  by  someone  in  connection  with 
the  boat  management  and  used  in  some  form  of  graft. 
Because  it  was  necessary  for  them  to  buy  so  much  of 
their  food,  all  the  boys  who  had  money  with  which  they 
expected  to  buy  things  when  they  landed  on  the  other 
side,  were  without  a  penny  when  the  boat  docked. 

Every  afternoon  between  2  and  3  o'clock,  the  Y.  M. 

Six 


C.  A.  workers  who  were  on  the  transport  came  on  deck 
and  held  song  services.  Many  familiar  hymns  were 
sung.  These  meetings  were  very  popular  at  first,  but 
gradually  the  fascination  for  them  wore  off,  and  toward 
the  latter  part  of  the  voyage  they  were  but  lightly 
attended. 

The  "Y"  workers  did  promote  one  form  of  entertain- 
ment, however,  that  the  boys  thoroughly  enjoyed.  This 
was  boxing.  Every  afternoon  several  bouts  would  be 
held.  Nearly  every  company  had  a  fighter  and  he  wai 
matched  with  the  best  man  of  some  other  company. 
Lively  bouts  of  about  three  or  four  rounds  were  fought. 
The  colored  soldiers  took  to  this  sport  keenly  and  they 
furnished  some  good  contests  among  themselves.  White 
men,  however,  were  not  permitted  to  box  the  colored 
soldiers,  as  such  a  bout  might  have  led  to  a  racial 
difference.  Members  of  the  ship's  crew  also  wanted  to 
partake  in  the  sport  and  they  furnished  several  bouts. 
The  sailors,  however,  were  somewhat  awkward  at  first, 
but  they  were  game  and  they  afforded  us  many  a  good 
laugh.  Those  who  had  charge  of  the  boxing  never  let 
a  bout  go  to  a  knockout.  When  one  man  was  appar- 
ently getting  the  worst  of  it  or  was  clearly  outboxed, 
the  bout  would  be  stopped. 

Very  strict  rules  were  issued  on  the  boat  with  regard 
to  lights  at  night.  Every  porthole  was  closed,  and  every 
precaution  taken  so  that  not  a  gleam  of  light  could  be 
seen.  The  men  were  warned  that  anyone  who  at- 
tempted to  make  a  light  would  be  shot  on  the  spot. 
The  fleet  moved  along  in  the  darkness  at  full  speed 
ahead.  That  it  did  not  meet  with  accident  was  due  to 
excellent  management  on  the  part  of  the  Government. 

All  the  boats  in  our  fleet  were  camouflaged.  The 
King  of  Italy  had  great  irregular  streaks  of  black  and 
white  painted  across  it.  One  of  the  boats  in  our  fleet 
had    a    really    remarkable    picture    of    a    sinking    ship 

Seven 


painted  on  its  side.  Another  had  two  ships  painted 
on  its  side  and  was  camouflaged  to  look  like 
two  vessels  instead  of  one.  While  the  camouflaged 
ships  appeared  strange  at  first,  we  soon  were  used  to 
the  unusual  appearance,  and  thought  nothing  of  them 
A  camouflaged  vessel  is  visible  to  the  naked  eye,  almost 
as  plain  as  one  that  has  not  been  daubed  with  paint,  but 
it  is  through  the  mirrors  of  a  periscope  that  the  camou- 
flage is  effective.  In  reflecting  the  picture  on  the 
horizon,  the  mirrors  lose  some  of  the  rays  of  light,  so 
officers  explained  to  me,  hence  the  eyes  of  the  peri- 
scope are  unable  to  detect  the  camouflage. 

Our  voyage  passed  pleasantly  with  smooth  seas  until 
the  eleventh  day,  when  the  water  was  a  little  choppy, 
and  then  for  the  first  time  some  of  the  boys  were  a 
little  sea  sick. 

It  was  my  fortune  to  see  our  first  and  only  brush 
with  a  submarine.  It  happened  about  4  o'clock  in  the 
morning  on  the  twelfth  day  out.  The  sea  was  choppy 
and  the  night  very  dark  and  cold.  I  was  on  guard  duty 
on  the  sixth  deck  of  our  vessel,  and  I  noticed  unusual 
activity  on  the  part  of  the  destroyers  that  were  convoy- 
ing our  fleet.  Our  transport  stopped  dead  still.  In  a 
moment  four  shots  were  fired  from  the  destroyer.  I 
could  see  the  fire  from  the  gun  plainly.  It  was  an  ex- 
citing moment  and  the  first  real  guns  of  war  that  I 
had  ever  heard.  Depth  bombs  were  also  dropped,  then 
all  was  still  again.  All  this  happened  without  disturb- 
ing the  men  asleep  on  our  boat,  and  in  the  morning 
they  were  told  that  the  transport  had  been  attacked 
by  submarines.  It  was  the  belief  that  the  destroyer 
had  sunk  one  of  the  U-boats. 

We  were  given  orders  on  the  twelfth  day  to  sleep 
in  our  clothes  with  our  life  belts  on  during  the  rest  of 
the  trip.  This  was  issued  so  that  there  would  be  no 
delay  in  getting  off  the  boat  if  we  were  hit  bv  a  tor- 
Eight 


pedo.  That  night,  being  unused  to  sleeping  with 
clothes  on,  was  a  restless  one  for  most  of  us.  The 
following  night,  however,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that 
we  were  fully  dressed,  we  slept  well. 

We  were  also  joined  on  that  day  by  a  flotilla  of  de- 
stroyers. The  sight  of  these  boats  was  hailed  with  joy, 
for  we  knew  we  were  nearing  land.  We  had  not  been 
informed,  however,  in  what  country  nor  at  what  port 
we  would  land,  but  we  had  hoped  that  it  would  be 
France,  and  we  soon  learned  that  our  destination  was 
France. 

The  torpedo  boat  flotilla  that  accompanied  us  during 
the  last  two  days  was  made  up  mostly  of  American  and 
British  destroyers,  though  there  were  two  French  boats 
among  them.  They  made  a  lively  scene,  and  surely  gave 
us  great  protection.  If  a  speck  would  appear  on  the 
horizon,  two  boats  would  be  off  to  investigate  it,  and 
would  return  later  to  join  the  fleet.  We  were  also 
accompanied  on  the  last  day  of  the  voyage  by  two 
airplanes   as   a   further   protection   against   submarines. 

We  sighted  land  on  the  thirteenth  day,  and  it  was  a 
welcome  view.  Everybody  was  happy  and  eager  to 
disembark.  It  was  quite  a  contrast  from  the  feeling 
that  existed  just  after  we  left  New  York  harbor.  We 
were  a  merry  crowd  as  we  entered  the  harbor  of  Brest 
and  we  were  glad  to  see  a  large  city  again.  We  dis- 
embarked at  3  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  Before  leaving 
the  boat,  we  were  given  "leaving  rations,"  which  con- 
sisted of  a  loaf  of  sour  bread,  a  can  of  bully  beef  and 
a  small  piece  of  cheese.  This  was  given  to  us  because 
we  had  a  long  march  ahead  and  our  kitchens  would  not 
be  in  place  for  several  hours.  We  were  taken  off  the 
transport  on  barges  built  especially  for  that  purpose. 
We  were  then  marched  to  the  Napoleon  Barracks,  built 
by  the  Emperor  Napoleon,  eight  miles  from  Brest,  and 
were  glad  to  put  our  feet  on  land  again,  even  though 

Nine 


the  march  was  a  long  one  after  a  thirteen  day  sea 
voyage.  We  had  only  a  passing  glimpse  of  Brest,  but 
did  not  mind  that  as*  we  knew  we  would  have  opportun- 
ity to  visit  the  city  later. 

CHAPTER  II. 
Our  First  Glimpse  of  France 

At  Brest,  the  American  soldiers  got  their  first  idea  of 
the  magnitude  of  the  work  that  the  American  Govern- 
ment was  doing  in  the  prosecution  of  the  war.  Prior 
to  our  arrival  there  we  had  heard  a  great  deal  about 
the  construction  work  in  French  ports  that  the  Ameri- 
cans had  undertaken,  but  our  ideas  of  just  what  this 
work  was,  were  more  or  less  vague.  At  Brest  we  saw 
just  what  it  was.  We  saw  miles  of  concrete  piers  that 
had  been  built  in  record-breaking  time  with  American 
skill,  American  speed  and  American  thoroughness.  This 
work  was  a  revelation  to  all  France,  and  the  magnitude 
of  the  task,  together  with  the  remarkably  short  time  in 
which  it  was  completed,  stamp  it  as  one  of  the  wonders 
of  the  war  and  as  a  lasting  tribute  to  American  in- 
genuity and  efficiency.  These  piers  and  warehouses  of 
American  construction  played  a  great  part  in  ending 
the  war,  for  they  enabled  the  American  Government 
not  only  to  land  millions  of  troops  in  France,  but  to 
provide  adequate  food,  ammunition,  guns  and  other 
necessary  supplies  for  these  men.  Nothing  like  it  had 
ever  been  done  before  in  the  history  of  the  world. 

Soon  after  we  left  the  boat  at  Brest,  the  men  were 
lined  up  on  the  pier  and  given  a  sensible  and  appre- 
ciated address  by  the  Commanding  Officer.  He  told  us 
that  now  more  than  ever  before,  since  we  were  upon 
foreign  soil,  orders  were  to  be  obeyed  to  the  letter.  We 
were  told  to  be  careful  in  all  that  we  did  because  by 
our  actions  the  French  people  would  judge  the  Ameri- 
can nation.    He  advised  us  to  do  everything  commanded 

Ten 


of  us  by  our  officers  with  snap  and  thoroughness,  so  as 
to  show  the  French  people  that  we  were  not  raw  re- 
cruits; that  we  were  real  soldiers;  that  we  could  do  as 
well  at  any  task,  if  not  better,  than  the  soldiers  of 
Europe.  The  boys,  to  a  man,  lived  up  to  those  instruc- 
tions, and  it  was  not  long  before  the  world  knew  that 
the  American  soldier  was  the  equal  of  any  on  earth. 

After  this  interesting  advice  was  received  we  swung 
into  squad  right  and  our  first  march  on  French  territory 
began.  We  first  marched  more  than  a  mile  through 
the  railroad  yards  in  Brest.  These  were  all  of  Ameri- 
can construction.  We  saw  miles  of  warehouses,  filled 
with  various  kinds  of  material  of  war  and  great  quan- 
tities of  food,  not  only  for  the  American  soldiers,  but 
for  the  civilians  of  France  as  well.  These  warehouses 
were  of  wooden  construction,  and  so  different  in  design 
and  material  from  other  buildings  in  Brest  that  we  recog- 
nized at  once  that  they  were  built  by  Yankees.  For 
this  reason,  we  greeted  them  as  friends;  it  was  like 
looking  upon  a  familiar  scene. 

Most  everything  else,  however,  that  met  our  eyes  had 
a  decidedly  foreign  look.  The  railroad  trains  in  the 
yards  were  French,  and  entirely  different  from  those 
of  this  country.  The  freight  cars  have  a  diminutive 
look.  They  are  only  about  half  the  size  of  American 
cars  and  they  rest  upon  single  trucks.  The  locomotives 
are  much  smaller  than  ours  and  have  brass  boilers.  We 
did  not  see  anything  of  the  familiar  dark  red  American 
box  car  and  the  giant  American  locomotives  until  we 
got  into  the  interior  of  France. 

We  passed  many  peasant  women  and  children  while 
we  were  marching  through  the  railroad  yards.  Some  of 
them  were  offering  cakes  and  nuts  for  sale,  others  were 
begging  white  bread  from  us.  It  was  here  that  we  first 
heard  those  two  French  words  that  became  so  familiar 
to   us   before   we   left   France,   "Donnez   moi."     It  was 

Eleven 


"donnez  moi"  this  and  "donnez  moi"  that,  especially 
from  the  children  who  begged  cigarettes,  pennies,  and 
anything  else  that  the  American  boys  might  have  to 
give  away. 

Brest  is  built  on  hills,  some  of  which  rise  abruptly 
and  give  a  picturesque  look  to  the  old  city.  As  we 
marched  through  the  residence  part  of  the  city,  the 
women  from  the  windows  gave  us  a  hearty  welcome, 
waving  flags  and  calling  "Vive  les  Amerique."  Our 
march  took  us  over  a  winding  roadway  through  the 
district  where  the  poorer  classes  lived  and  we  did  not 
get  a  view  of  the  more  attractive  parts  of  the  city  on 
our  arrival.  The  street  we  marched  along  was  paved 
with  broken  rock  and  was  in  excellent  condition;  it 
was  crossed  several  times  by  overhead  railroad  tracks 
built  on  massive  arches  of  masonry. 

Our  first  impressions  are  rather  difficult  to  describe 
because  everything  had  such  different  appearance  from 
familiar  things  in  America.  One  noticeable  feature  was 
the  character  of  the  construction.  The  buildings  are  of 
stone  or  some  other  such  inflammable  material,  with 
roofs  of  slate  or  tile.  There  are  no  frame  buildings, 
except  those  that  have  been  constructed  by  Americans 
since  April,  1917. 

The  dress  and  the  habits  of  the  people  differ  mate- 
rially from  those  of  America.  Most  of  the  lower  classes 
wear  sabots,  or  wooden  shoes.  Some  wear  sabots  with 
leather  tops.  But  few,  if  any,  all  leather  shoes  are  in 
use  among  the  lower  classes.  While  all  shades  and 
colors  of  clothes  were  worn  by  children,  we  noticed 
that  the  women  were  nearly  all  dressed  in  black.  This, 
we  believed  to  be  because  they  had  lost  relatives  in  the 
war,  and  we  later  found  that  our  conclusion  was  the 
correct  one.  Among  the  poorer  classes  the  men  wear 
large  loosely  fitting  trousers  and  tight  jackets.  They 
wear   a  peculiar   hat,  with   a   tightly   fitting   crown,  a 

Twelve 


broad  round  brim,  and  two  streamers  of  black  ribbon 
about  eighteen  inches  long  hanging  down  in  back.  The 
middle  classes  dress  more  like  Americans,  though  not 
with  as  well  made  clothes  as  one  is  accustomed  to  see 
in  this  country. 

After  marching  about  five  miles,  we  were  given  a 
rest  in  an  open  field  in  the  outskirts  of  Brest.  Here 
we  were  again  addressed  by  an  officer  and  cautioned 
to  be  careful  about  coming  in  contact  with  the  French 
people,  and  particularly  with  the  women  and  children 
of  the  lower  classes.  We  were  informed  that  the  lower 
classes  of  women  and  the  peasant  children  are  nearly 
all  syphylitic,  especially  in  seaport  towns.  This  sent  a 
shudder  through  us,  for  we  had  already  been  fondling 
some  of  the  French  children,  before  we  realized  the 
necessity  for  caution.  The  warning  was  heeded  and 
thereafter  the  boys  kept  the  peasants  at  a  distance. 

As  we  resumed  our  march,  we  began  to  get  into  a 
cultivated  district.  The  rolling  land  along  the  roadway 
was  cut  up  into  small  farms  ranging  in  size  from  a  half 
acre  to  about  two  and  a  half  acres.  The  boundary  lines 
of  these  farms  were  hedges;  there  were  no  fences,  such 
as  we  have  in  America.  The  land  was  planted  to  truck 
gardens,  berries,  fruit  trees,  etc.,  and  at  the  time  that 
we  saw  them,  they  were  in  good  condition  and  appar- 
ently quite  productive. 

It  was  about  6  o'clock  in  the  evening  and  after  a  long 
and  hard  march  that  we  arrived  at  the  Napoleon  Bar- 
racks, where  we  were  to  have  a  few  days'  rest  before 
going  into  the  interior.  These  barracks  are  quite  ex- 
tensive. They  are  built  of  stone  and  are  surrounded  by 
a  stone  wall.  The  wall  is  about  three  feet  thick  and 
twenty  feet  high,  and  it  would  be  a  difficult  matter  for 
anyone  to  scale  it.  To  keep  soldiers  from  trying  to  get 
out,  broken  glass  is  cemented  into  it  for  the  entire 
length  on  top.    The  purpose  of  this  was  to  make  it  so 

Thirteen 


dangerous  that  no  soldier  would  attempt  to  climb  it.  There 
are  two  arched  gateways  leading  to  the  interior.  These 
archways  are  fitted  with  heavy  gates,  which  were  origi- 
nally designed  as  defense  gates  in  case  of  attack.  The 
main  buildings  within  the  enclosure  are  of  two  stories 
and  are  built  of  stone.  We  were  not  long  in  being 
assigned  to  the  bunks  that  we  were  to  occupy  during 
our  stay.  These  were  two  decked  affairs  with  a 
mattress  of  slats  about  two  inches  apart  to  sleep  on. 
They  were  about  as  uncomfortable  as  anyone  can 
imagine  and  most  of  the  boys  preferred  to  sleep  on 
the  floor.  These  barracks  had  been  occupied  by  many 
American  boys  who  had  gone  before  us.  We  saw  thou- 
sands of  American  names  written  on  the  walls,  and 
occasionally  we  would  run  across  one  that  we  knew. 
And,  like  the  other,  we  too  wrote  our  names,  for  the 
hoys  who  followed  to  read  and  comment  upon. 

Our  meal  for  the  first  night  at  the  barracks  consisted 
;>f  the  rations  we  had  been  given  upon  leaving  the 
ship — bully  beef,  sour  bread  and  cheese.  Our  cooks  got 
their  fires  started  and  gave  us  some  coffee,  which  stimu- 
lated us  after  our  long  and  tiresome  march. 

After  eating,  we  were  permitted  to  write  to  our  folks 
at  home,  and  all  of  us  spent  the  evening  in  correspond- 
ence. We  were  not  permitted  to  write  while  on  board 
ship,  so  most  of  us  had  several  letters  to  send.  I  wrote 
until  11  o'clock  that  night.  I  was*  surprised  to  find  that 
it  was  not  yet  dark.  The  long  and  appreciated  twilight 
is  due  to  the  fact  that  Brest  is  a  great  distance  farther 
north  than  Sacramento,  and  this  was  in  the  middle  of 
summer,  when  the  evenings   are  longest. 

Not  all  of  the  buildings  within  the  walls  at  the 
barracks  are  of  ancient  construction.  Several  were  re- 
cently built,  such  as  a  hospital,  a  bath  house  for  the 
accommodation  of  our  men,  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  hut,  etc.  At 
this  particular  place  the  "Y"  hut  was  appreciated  by  us 

Fourteen 


because  it  afforded  us  amusement,  we  could  buy  fruit, 
cakes,  tobacco  and  other  articles  there,  and  we  could 
attend  to  our  correspondence  there.  We  were  assem- 
bled there  on  one  occasion  to  hear  two  addresses  on 
the  ways  and  habits  of  the  French  people,  which  were 
to  benefit  us.  We  also  exchanged  our  American  money 
at  the  hut  for  French  money.  For  a  dollar  we  received 
five  francs  and  seventy  centimes,  and  it  was  amusing 
to  see  the  boys  studying  over  the  French  money  sys- 
tem, as  it  was  difficult  to  understand  at  first.  Some  of 
the  boys,  not  knowing  the  value  of  the  French  franc, 
paid  enormous  prices  for  fruits,  candies,  etc.,  to  French 
women  and  girls,  who  peddled  these  articles. 

While  at  the  Napoleon  Barracks  we  saw  the  first 
American  wounded.  They  were  soldiers  who  had  par- 
ticipated in  the  defense  against  the  German  drive  which 
began  in  March,  1918.  It  was  from  them  that  we  first 
learned  the  real  horrors  of  war.  Some  had  only  one 
arm;  others  had  lost  a  leg;  still  others  were  suffering 
from  shell  shock.  Those  who  were  suffering  from  shell 
shock  were  the  most  pitiful,  as  the  least  unusual  noise 
startled  them. 

I  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  placed  on  a  motor  truck 
detail  during  three  days  of  our  brief  stay  at  Brest. 
This  gave  me  an  opportunity  of  seeing  most  of  the  city. 
It  has  about  120,000  inhabitants,  is  one  of  the  chief  ports 
of  France  and  has  a  harbor  that  is  protected  by  nature 
as  well  as  by  strong  fortifications.  Lying  as  it  does, 
among  the  hills,  there  is  much  natural  beauty  in  the  city 
and  its  surroundings.  The  streets  are  about  as  wide  as 
those  of  the  average  American  city,  although  there  are  a 
number  of  very  narrow  streets  that  cut  into  the  main 
thoroughfares  at  angles  and  these  reminded  me  some- 
what of  the  narrow  .streets  of  Boston.  The  city  is  kept 
clean  and  there  are  numerous  parks  and  public  squares. 
The  latter  are  frequented  mostly  by  women  and  chil- 

Fifteen 


dren,  though  it  is  not  uncommon  to  see  French  soldiers, 
home  from  the  front  on  leave,  lounging  in  them.  The 
warm  blooded  French  people  have  ideas  that  differ 
widely  from  those  of  Americans  in  many  respects,  and 
it  is  nothing  unusual  to  see  a  French  couple  making 
love  in  broad  daylight  with  persons  passing  by  on  all 
sides,  in  one  of  these  public  parks.  Occasionally  one 
would  see  an  American  soldier  sitting  with  a  French 
Madamoiselle.  French  troops  were  often  drilling  in 
these  squares — not  troops  that  had  participated  in  the 
war,  but  companies  of  younger  men  who  were  being 
trained  for  war.  It  was  interesting  to  watch  them  and 
to  contrast  their  manoevuers  with  ours. 

There  are  no  skyscrapers  in  Brest,  that  is  to  say,  there 
are  no  tall  office  buildings  there,  although  the  city  is 
an  important  business  point.  The  only  tall  structures 
are  the  churches  and  an  old  castle,  dating  from  the 
thirteenth  century.  The  business  buildings  are  all  of 
two  or  three  stories.  The  stores  are  not  as  up  to  date 
as  the  retail  establishments  in  America,  and  the  methods 
of  doing  business  are  entirely  different  from  ours. 
Goods  are  not  on  display  in  the  open  as  they  are  in 
American  stores,  but  are  kept  in  show  cases.  If  you 
are  interested  in  a  certain  piece  of  goods,  the  clerk 
takes  it  out  of  the  show  case  and  exhibits  it  to  you. 
If  you  do  not  buy  it,  the  article  is  placed  right  back  in 
the  show  case.  The  clerks  are  mostly  girls.  They  are 
plainly  dressed  but  always  neat.  Most  of  them  wear 
black.  They  are  by  no  means  as  well  dressed  as  Ameri- 
can girls  who  work  in  stores.  The  French  store  em- 
ployes are  very  poorly  paid,  the  average  wage  for  a 
clerk  being  two  and  a  half  francs,  or  about  50  cents  in 
American  money  a  day. 

During  the  war,  Brest  was  very  much  of  a  cosmo- 
politan city.  On  the  streets  most  any  day  could  be  seen 
the   uniforms    of   the    soldiers    and    sailors    of   all    the 

Sixteen 


Allied  nations — French,  British,  Italian,  Portuguese, 
American  and  others.  The  uniforms  of  the  different 
nations  are  of  different  hues  and  they  gave  a  tinge  of 
color  to  the  crowds  on  the  streets.  They  ranged  from 
spotless  white  to  faded  blues.  The  uniforms  of  the 
Italian  soldiers,  in  my  opinion,  were  the  most  attractive. 
They  were  a  pretty  gray,  well  made  and  attractive  in 
design.  The  uniform  of  the  American  soldier,  while  not 
the  prettiest,  is  the  most  serviceable.  For  war  use  it 
is  no  doubt  the  best.  The  British  wear  uniforms  very 
much  like  ours,  although  a  little  different  in  shade  and 
design.  They  are  serviceable  and  neat  but  not  attrac- 
tive. The  coat  has  a  small  lapel  and  large  brass  buttons 
that  are  always  well  shined.  The  home  guards  of  the 
French  army  wore  flashy  coats  and  trousers.  The 
trousers  were  either  blue  with  a  broad  red  stripe  or  red 
with  a  blue  stripe. 

I  regret  that  our  brief  stay  in  Brest  did  not  give  me 
a  better  opportunity  to  see  the  mediaeval  churches  and 
castles  in  the  vicinity.  But  war  is  serious  business  with 
no  time  for  sightseeing  and  on  the  third  night  after 
our  arrival,  we  received  our  orders  to  march  at  4  o'clock 
the  following  morning.  It  was  a  restless  night  for  we 
knew  that  every  day  from  now  on  would  take  us  nearer 
to  the  front  and  to  the  fight.  At  3:30  o'clock  on  the 
morning  of  our  departure  we  were  all  up  and  dressed 
and  were  packing  our  belongings.  We  came  to  com- 
pany front  promptly  at  4  o'clock,  just  as  the  dawn  was 
breaking;  in  a  very  few  minutes  we  were  marching 
out  of  the  historic  Napoleon  Barracks  never  to  see  them 
again.  The  morning  was  cool  and  crisp;  it  was  con- 
ducive to  lively  marching  and  we  stepped  along  at  a 
fast  clip,  passing  three  companies  of  infantry  on  the 
way  to  Brest.  The  march  was  an  eight  mile  "hike"  and 
we  made  it  without  a  stop  until  we  reached  the  railroad 
yards  at  Brest.    We  were   then   assigned   to   compart- 

Seventeen 


merits  in  French  railroad  coaches.  Most  of  them  were 
second  and  third  class  coaches,  although  there  were  a 
few  first  class  cars  for  the  officers.  There  were  five 
compartments  to  a  car  and  eight  men  were  assigned 
to  each  compartment ;  as  we  also  had  to  make  room 
for  our  luggage,  we  were  crowded  and  uncomfortable. 
However,  we  made  the  best  of  the  unpleasant  condi- 
tions, and  patiently  awaited  the  starting  of  the  train, 
which  was  to  take  us  through  a  country  new  and 
strange  to  us,  and  nearer  to  the  war  zone. 

CHAPTER  III. 

From  Brest  to   Langres 

Before  our  train  pulled  out  of  Brest  we  were  ordered 
out  of  our  crowded  compartments  in  the  French  railroad 
coaches  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  in  traveling  rations. 
These  consisted  of  canned  bully  beef,  canned  jam,  can- 
ned beans  and  bread.  The  bread  that  was  given  to  us 
here  was  made  into  enormous  loaves — the  largest  that 
any  of  us  had  ever  seen.  The  loaves  were  sixteen  or 
eighteen  inches  wide,  from  two  and  a  half  to  three  feet 
long  and  eight  or  nine  inches  high.  They  were  Ameri- 
can-made and  were  white  and  wholesome.  The  outside 
crust  was  hard  but  palatable  and  the  inside  was  soft  and 
flaky  like  home-made  bread.  We  afterwards  learned  that 
these  loaves  had  been  baked  weeks  in  advance  and  that 
they  were  kept  fresh  and  palatable  by  the  use  of  a 
chemical.  Each  compartment  of  eight  men  was  given 
three  of  these  large  loaves  which,  together  with  a  num- 
ber of  cans  of  beans,  bully  beef  and  jam,  were  to  keep 
us  supplied  with  food  until  we  reached  Langres,  in  east- 
ern France,  which  was  our  destination.  We  had  prev- 
iously learned — on  our  trip  overseas — to  conserve  food, 
and  none  of  this  supply  was  wasted.  We  stored  it 
away  in  our  cramped  quarters  and  saw  that  it  got 
proper  care. 

Eighteen 


As  we  sat  in  the  train  waiting  for  it  to  start,  we  look- 
ed out  upon  the  bay  of  Brest  and  saw  numerous  tugs 
busy  along  the  waterfront.  They  were  all  engaged  in 
war  work  of  some  kind.  We  also  saw  more  American 
troops  being  landed  at  the  wharf,  just  as  we  were  landed 
a  few  days  previous,  and  we  knew  their  thoughts  a^nd 
feelings.  In  the  air  there  were  several  airplanes  and 
dirigible  balloons  giving  needed  protection  to  the  ships 
that  were  entering  the  harbor. 

While  we  were  still  in  the  yards  of  Brest,  we  also  saw 
for  the  first  time  in  France,  numerous  Chinese  coolies, 
who  were  doing  with  their  labor  their  part  toward  win- 
ning the  war.  They  worked  on  the  railroad  tracks  in 
large  gangs.  To  the  Eastern  boys  who  were  not  ac- 
quainted with  this  class  of  Chinese  laborers,  they  were 
quite  a  curiosity,  but  to  the  Western  boys,  the  sight 
was  nothing  unusual.  The  coolies,  however,  were  not 
dressed  in  the  customary  Chinese  clothes,  as  in  Califor- 
nia, but  were  in  a  garb  more  like  that  which  American 
laborers  wear.  They  had  on  overalls,  loose  blouses  or 
jumpers,  heavy  leather  shoes  and  straw  hats. 

We  pulled  out  of  Brest  about  10  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing. The  train  was  made  up  of  about  twenty-five  or 
thirty  of  those  small  and  uncomfortable  French  coaches, 
and  it  moved  very  slowly.  To  one  used  to  the  fast  first- 
class  American  trains,  this  French  train  seemed  ex- 
ceedingly slow,  unaccommodating  and  tiresome.  We 
first  climbed  gradually  up  the  hills,  overlooking  the 
bay,  and  were  furnished  with  a  wonderful  view.  We 
could  see  far  out  to  sea,  and  were  in  part  compensated 
for  the  lack  of  comforts  to  which  an  American  is  ac- 
customed when  traveling,  by  the  beauty  of  the  scenery, 
and  the  many  strange  and  interesting  sights  that  were 
constantly  meeting  our  eyes. 

Soon  after  we  left  the  ocean  we  came  to  a  fertile 
farming  section,  in  which  crops  of  various  kinds,  such 
as  grains,  fruits,  garden  truck,  etc.,  were  grown.    We 

Nineteen 


had  known  that  the  farms  in  European  countries  are 
small,  especially  those  of  France,  as  compared  with 
farms  in  America,  but  it  was  necessary  for  us  to  see 
the  actual  size  of  these  small  farms  to  realize  how 
diminutive  they  are.  As  in  the  vicinity  of  Brest,  men- 
tioned in  a  previous  chapter,  the  cultivated  areas  ranged 
in  size  from  a  half  acre  to  two  and  a  half  acres.  Rarely 
we  would  see  a  place  as  large  as  five  acres,  but  that 
was  the  exception.  No  fences  separated  these  farms, 
but  the  boundaries  were  marked  by  hedges  and  occa- 
sionally a  low  stone  wall.  In  these  small  fields  culti- 
vation is  not  practiced  as  in  this  country,  but  the  land 
is  tilled  in  narrow  strips.  The  numerous  different  tex- 
tures of  the  soil,  accounted  for  the  large  number  of 
strips.  Each  strip  was  planted  to  a  crop  to  which  it 
was   best   suited. 

The  highways  through  this  farming  section  are  kept 
in  excellent  condition.  They  are  built  of  rock  and 
give  the  impression  from  the  train  window  that  a  motor 
trip  through  France  would  be  a  delight.  Rows  of  trees 
are  planted  along  all  the  highways,  the  poplar  tree 
predominating,  but  other  trees  being  used  frequently  as 
well.  The  by-roads  are  of  dirt  but  appear  to  be  kept  in 
good  condition.  They  also  have  trees  planted  along 
them;  this  seems  to  be  a  characteristic  of  France,  and 
readers  will  recall  that  in  all  war  pictures  where  these 
roads  have  been  shown,  the  rows  of  trees  are  always 
there.  This  is  an  excellent  feature  and  one  that  Cali- 
fornia with  its  rapidly  increasing  mileage  of  concrete 
roads,  might  well  follow. 

Very  few  automobiles  were  seen  on  these  highways, 
except  those  engaged  in  war  transportation.  Of  course 
at  the  time  that  I  made  my  observations,  the  country 
was  engaged  in  war,  and  in  peace  times  no  doubt  more 
automobiles  belonging  to  civilians  are  in  use.  It  is  a 
fact,  however,  there  are  comparatively  few  automobiles 
among  the  civil  population  of  France.     Only  the  very 

Twenty 


rich  own  them.  The  masses  of  the  people  do  not  possess 
them,  as  in  America.  The  civil  population  either  walk 
along  these  highways  or  travel  in  horse-drawn  carts 
and  wagons.  The  carts  are  different  from  any  that  we 
see  in  America.  Frequently  they  are  heavily  constructed 
with  wheels  of  from  six  to  eight  feet  in  diameter.  They 
are  fitted  with  brakes,  which  are  used  on  the  grades. 
They  have  a  long  body,  that  is,  long  for  a  cart,  and  this 
is  laden  with  the  varied  products  of  the  small  farms 
which  are  in  this  way  taken  to  market.  Most  frequently 
these  carts  are  drawn  by  one  horse,  though  it  is  not 
unusual  to  see  two  or  three  horses  hitched  to  one  when 
the  load  is  heavy.  When  more  than  one  horse  is  used, 
the  animals  are  not  hitched  abreast,  but  tandem.  The 
wheel  horse  is  hitched  between  two  long  heavy  shafts 
and  his  duty  seems  to  be  largely  that  of  steering  the 
unwieldy  conveyance,  while  the  front  horse  or  horses 
do  most  of  the  pulling.  The  harness  is  heavy  and  the 
rear  horse  is  protected  from  sores  that  might  be  caused 
by  rubbing,  by  a  heavy  and  well  padded  saddle  and  a 
heavy  girth.  It  was  a  common  sight  to  see  a  woman 
driving  one  of  these  carts  and  guiding  the  wheel  horse 
and  handling  the  brakes,  while  boys  were  either  driv- 
ing or  leading  the  leaders.  These  strange  and  cumber- 
some rigs,  so  different  from  any  that  we  had  ever  seen 
before,  interested  and  amused  us. 

The  crops  in  the  section  through  which  we  passed  on 
our  first  day  out  of  Brest  appeared  to  be  good.  They 
gave  me,  a  Californian  with  considerable  farming  ex- 
perience, the  impression  that  agriculture  has  been  very 
carefully  studied  by  the  French.  Occasionally  we  would 
see  small  tracts  lying  fallow,  apparently  to  give  the  land 
a  needed  rest,  while  other  tracts  were  being  cultivated. 
On  some  of  the  small  farms  it  was  haying  season.  We 
were  surprised  as  we  noted  the  methods  of  the  French 
farmer  in  this  particular  branch  of  husbandry.  The  hay 
was  cut  mostly  by  women   and  children  with   scythes. 

Twenty-one 


An  American  mower  probably  had  never  been  seen  there. 
It  seemed  like  a  tremendous  waste  of  human  energy  to 
see  these  women  and  children  doing  such  hard  manual 
labor  in  the  field,  when  a  modern  mower  would  cut 
the  entire  field  in  a  very  short  time.  It  seems  to  me 
there  should  be  a  field  for  the  sale  of  American  mowers 
and  other  modern  American  farm  machinery  in  the  rural 
districts  of  France.  While  the  farms  are  so  small  that 
the  individual  farmer  could  not,  perhaps,  afford  to  buy 
a  mower,  still,  several  farmers  could  go  in  together 
and  buy  one,  or  the  community  as  a  whole  could  buy 
one,  for  the  common  use  of  all  who  needed  it.  Here  is 
something  that  the  French  and  American  Governments 
might  get  together  on,  for  surely  the  French  want  to 
conserve  the  energy  of  their  women  and  children  who 
now  do  this  hard  work,  and  the  Americans  want  a 
wider  market  for  their  modern  farm  equipment.  It  must 
be  said,  however,  that  the  women  of  the  French  peas- 
antry who  were  doing  this  hard  work,  appeared  strong 
and  healthful,  and  were  enured  to  this  difficult  labor,  no 
doubt,  through  many  generations  of  this  hard  farm  life. 

We  noticed  as  we  got  away  from  the  coast,  that  there 
was  a  change  in  the  style  of  dress  of  the  peasants.  We 
no  longer  saw  the  round  hats  with  the  ribbon  streamers 
hanging  down  behind,  so  familiar  in  the  rural  districts 
around  Brest.  The  dress  of  the  peasants,  farther  in  the 
interior,  was  more  like  that  of  the  laboring  classes  of 
America.  The  men  and  women  both  wore  serviceable 
clothes  of  dark  material,  but  few  of  them  wore  anything 
on  their  heads.  Sabots  were  worn  instead  of  leather 
shoes.  The  women  wore  a  sort  of  an  Arctic  sock  over 
the  stockings ;  the  men  frequently  wore  no  socks  at  all. 
Occasionally  the  sabots  would  be  several  sizes  too  large 
for  the  wearer,  but  were  made  to  fit  by  stuffing  straw 
in  them.  This  must  have  been  rather  uncomfortable, 
but  the  French  peasantry  seemed  not  to  mind  it  at  all. 

While  the  horse  is  the  principal  draft  animal  in  France, 

Twenty-two 


oxen  are  also  used  by  some  farmers.  Most  Western 
boys  have  seen  teams  of  oxen,  as  they  are  still  in  use 
in  some  of  the  mountain  districts  of  California,  or  at 
least  they  were  still  in  use  up  to  a  few  years  ago;  but 
to  the  Eastern  boys  an  ox  team  was  a  new  and  inter- 
esting  sight,   and   there   was   much   comment   upon   it. 

The  first  large  city  at  which  we  stopped  after  leaving 
Brest  was  Nantes.  This  is  a  popular  and  ancient  city, 
famous  for  the  edict  of  Nantes,  and  more  famous  still, 
perhaps,  because  of  the  revocation  of  that  edict  by  Louis 
XIV,  which  led  to  disastrous  religious  wars.  Nantes  is 
also  famous  as  the  birthplace  of  Jules  Verne,  whose 
"Twenty  Thousand  Leagues  Under  the  Sea,"  became  an 
actuality  during  the  world  war.  It  is  a  city  of  about 
150,000  and  is  an  important  industrial  center,  having  ex- 
tensive shipyards,  factories,  wharves,  etc.  It  is  on  the 
right  bank  of  the  Loire  River,  about  thirty-five  miles 
from  its  mouth  and  is  one  of  the  chief  ports  of  entry 
of  France. 

Nantes  has  a  very  interesting  history  and  it  contains 
many  ancient  and  famous  edifices.  It  was  not  our  priv- 
ilege, however,  to  see  any  more  of  the  city  than  the 
views  afforded  from  the  train,  for  we  stopped  here  but 
a  short  time.  It  was  there  that  we  got  our  first  taste  of 
French  coffee,  which  is  very  different  from  that  made 
and  served  in  America.  It  was  furnished  to  us  by  the 
French  Government.  At  first  it  was  distasteful  to  us, 
but  after  drinking  it  a  few  times  we  became  used  to  it 
and  later  on  we  really  liked  it. 

We  were  now  in  the  rich  valley  of  the  Loire,  one  of 
the  most  productive  and  one  of  the  most  famous  in 
France.  It  is  not  nearly  so  large  as  the  Sacramento  Val- 
ley, in  California,  nor  as  fertile,  yet  its  fame  extends 
around  the  world.  It  is  drained  by  the  Loire  River, 
which  is  the  longest  river  in  France,  being  more  than 
600  miles  in  length,  and  being  navigable  for  ships  as  far 

Twenty-three 


as  Nantes  and  for  river  boats  for  more  than  five  hun- 
dred miles  of  its  length. 

In  the  valley  of  the  Loire  we  began  to  see  the  beauti- 
ful vineyards  of  France.  In  this  district  the  farms  as  a 
rule  were  a  little  larger  than  those  we  saw  on  our  way 
from  Brest  to  Nantes,  and  consequently  the  hedges  were 
less  numerous.  It  was  an  exceedingly  picturesque  scene 
that  met  our  eyes  as  we  rolled  along  in  the  slow  train. 
One  noticeable  fact  was  that  each  little  vineyard  was  of 
a  different  shade  of  green  from  that  of  its  nearest 
neighbors,  due  perhaps,  to  a  different  variety  of  plant, 
or  to  a  variation  of  soil.  There  seemed  to  be  no  two 
of  just  the  same  shade.  It  was  also  in  the  Valley  of  the 
Loire  that  we  saw  considerable  fruit  production. 
Orchards  were  more  numerous  here  than  on  the  coast. 
They  were  planted  to  most  of  the  deciduous  trees  with 
which  we  of  California  are  familiar,  although  prunes 
seemed  to   predominate. 

While  we  were  traveling  through  this  valley  we  were 
greeted  with  some  familiar  sights  and  sounds.  These 
were  the  American  box  car  and  locomotive  and  the 
sound  of  the  whistle  of  a  U.  S.  A.  train.  We  greeted 
the  American  rolling  stock  as  companions,  and  were 
truely  glad  to  see  them.  We  could  easily  distinguish 
between  the  sound  of  the  whistle  of  an  American  loco- 
motive and  that  of  a  French  engine,  the  American  whis- 
tle being  deep  and  the  French  shrill.  It  may  seem  strange 
to  think  that  I  comment  upon  such  a  small  matter  as  a 
locomotive  whistle,  but  when  one  is  in  a  foreign  land, 
amid  foreign  scenes  and  sounds,  a  familiar  sound  is 
good  to  hear,  even  though  it  is  as  unmusical  as  a  deep 
blast   of   an  American-made  locomotive. 

Our  next  stop  at  a  place  of  importance  was  at  Tours — 
historic  Tours.  This  is  a  city  of  more  than  100,000  inhab- 
itants and  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  cities  in  France. 

I  spent  several  weeks  here  in  a  hospital  after  being 

Twenty -four 


gassed  on  the  Metz  front  and  I  will  speak  in  more  de- 
tail of  this  city  in  a  later  chapter. 

At  Tours  we  were  given  more  freedom  than  at  any 
previous  stop,  and  here  our  officers  bought  chocolates, 
tobacco  and  fruit  and  distributed  them  among  the  men. 
These  dainties  were  the  first  we  had  since  leaving  Brest 
and  were  surely  appreciated. 

After  leaving  Tours  we  continued  to  wind  through  the 
Valley  of  the  Loire  along  the  Loire  River,  and  I  must 
say  that  the  vineyards  and  orchards  between  Tours  and 
Orleans,  our  next  stop,  were  the  prettiest  that  I  saw 
in  all  of  France.  In  this  particular  part  of  the  valley  the 
trees  and  vines  are  exceedingly  prolific,  as  compared 
with  trees  and  vines  in  other  parts  of  France.  They  are 
not,  however,  as  prolific  as  those  of  California.  The 
trees  do  not  attain  as  large  a  growth  as  those  of  this 
State  and  the  vines  are  less  vigorous.  The  fruit  is 
neither  as  large  nor  does  it  have  the  quality  of  ours. 
The  1918  fruit  crop  was  a  large  one,  as  measured  by 
French  standards,  but  yield  per  acre,  I  am  sure,  would 
be  small  as  compared  with  the  yield  per  acre  of  a  first 
class  Sacramento  river  orchard.  The  difference  of  the 
quality  and  the  yield  as  compared  with  our  fruits,  is  un- 
doubtedly due  to  the  fact  that  for  centuries  the  lands 
of  the  Loire  have  been  cultivated,  while  our  lands  are 
new  and  contain  all  their  natural  richness.  The  vine- 
yards are  planted  differently  from  ours.  The  vines  are 
four  feet  apart  one  way  and  eight  feet  apart  another, 
while  ours  are  usually  planted  eight  or  ten  feet  apart 
each  way.  Having  been  reared  on  a  California  vineyard, 
I  was  naturally  very  much  interested  in  the  vineyards 
of  France,  and  I  examined  those  that  I  had  the  oppor- 
tunity of  visiting  very  carefully.  I  inspected  some  of  the 
grapes  that  were  pronounced  first  class  by  French  vine- 
yardists,  and  found  them  to  be  very  inferior  to  Califor- 
nia grapes.  The  berries  were  smaller  and  they  con- 
tained less  juice. 

Twenty -five 


The  farther  we  traveled  into  the  interior  of  France, 
the  more  interested  the  people  became  in  us.  In  other 
words,  the  nearer  we  came  to  the  scene  of  action,  the 
greater  was  the  enthusiasm  of  the  French-  people  over 
our  arrival.  While  we  excited  but  small  interest  in  the 
small  towns  on  the  coast,  as  we  got  closer  to  the  front, 
there  were  delegations  of  women  and  children  at  the 
station  waving  to  us  at  every  small  or  large  town 
through  which  we  passed.  Cries  of  "Vive  L'Amerique" 
were  more  frequent,  and  we  had  hopes  that  the  per- 
sistent "donnez  moi"  would  be  heard  less  frequently, 
but  it  was  not.  We  never  ceased  hearing  it  as  long  as 
there  were  French  children  around. 

We  arrived  at  Orleans  late  in  the  evening  of  the  third 
day  of  our  trip,  and  here  we  received  a  very  hearty  wel- 
come from  the  American  Red  Cross,  as  we  did  at  Tours. 
The  station  at  Orleans  was  more  like  an  American  sta- 
tion than  any  that  we  had  yet  seen  in  France.  It  was 
large  and  equipped  with  several  tracks,  as  are  most 
American  stations.  Orleans  is  full  of  interest,  but  we 
were  not  permitted  to  stop  there  long.  We  continued 
on  our  journey  all  night  and  the  next  day  were  out  of 
the  Valley  of  the  Loire  and  into  a  hilly  section.  While 
the  scenery  was  attractive,  there  were  fewer  cultivated 
areas  and  the  soil  was  less  productive.  We  now  began 
to  see  more  of  the  American  war  activities  in  France. 
We  saw  tented  cities  that  had  been  built  for  troops  in 
record  time  ;  we  saw  camps  where  American  soldiers  were 
being  drilled;  and  we  saw  great  quantities  of  American 
implements  of  war  such  as  airplanes,  ammunition,  light 
and  heavy  artillery,  etc.  In  this  region  we  also  passed 
three  hospital  trains  coming  from  the  front  with  Ameri- 
can soldiers  who  had  been  wounded,  and  we  knew  we 
were  getting  very  near  the  fighting.  We  also  noticed  a 
decided  difference  in  the  French  inhabitants.  We  de- 
tected a  deeper  interest  in  the  war  among  these  people 
who  were  so  near  the  battle  line  than  in  those  farther 

Twenty-six 


away,  and  we  noted  that  not  a  young  man  was  to  be 
seen  among  the  civilians  in  eastern  France — they  were 
all  at  the  front  fighting  to  save  their  homes  from  the 
ruthless   Hun. 

At  4  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the  fourth  day  after 
we  had  left  Brest,  we  arrived  at  Langres,  which  was 
our  destination,  so  far  as  train  travel  was  concerned. 
It  was  a  great  relief  to  leave  those  crowded  compart- 
ments in  that  uncomfortable  train.  The  distance  from 
Brest  to  Langres  by  the  route  we  traveled  probably 
does  not  exceed  six  hundred  miles,  yet  it  took  us  four 
days  and  three  nights  to  make  the  distance.  A  first 
class  American  train  would  cover  the  same  distance  in 
about  sixteen  hours.  At  times  our  train  moved  so  slow- 
ly that  a  man  could  get  out  and  keep  up  with  it  by  run- 
ning along  the  side.  There  were  no  conveniences  on  the 
train,  such  as  American  travelers  are  accustomed  to. 
For  instance,  there  were  no  toilets,  and  the  train  would 
stop  every  three  or  four  hours  at  some  small  station 
where  latrines  were  provided  for  our  use.  No  one  knows 
how  miserable  we  were  on  this  trip,  and  the  only  thing 
that  kept  the  boys  from  complaining  was  the  fact  that 
the  country  was  new  to  us  and  strange  sights  and  scenes 
made  us  forget  our  discomfort.  Still,  we  did  not  have 
things  as  bad  as  some  of  the  American  boys,  who  were 
compelled  to  travel  across  France  in  box  cars. 

We  were  all  glad  to  stretch  our  legs  at  Langres,  and 
after  we  were  given  a  little  refreshing  exercise,  we  were 
loaded  on  motor  trucks  and  taken  to  our  barracks, 
located  in  a  stone  building  formerly  used  as  a  convent. 

The  city  of  Langres  is  beautifully  situated.  It  is  on 
a  hill  that  rises  from  a  plateau.  It  is  a  city  of  great 
antiquity,  dating  from  the  time  of  the  Romans.  There 
can  be  no  doubt  but  that  its  original  location  was  se- 
lected because  of  its  strategic  position,  as  it  is  on  the 
summit  of  a  ridge  and  commands  the  situation  in  every 
direction.     In  mediaeval  times  it  was  a  stronghold  for 

Twenty- seven 


the  feudal  lords  and  in  modern  times  it  is  still  of  im- 
portance as  a  fortress.  The  city  is  surrounded  by  a  de- 
fense wall,  built  hundreds  of  years  ago,  and  around  the 
outside  of  the  wall  was  a  moat,  wide  and  deep.  In 
feudal  days  this  moat  was  part  of  the  defense  works 
and  it  was  kept  filled  with  water.  It  was  dry  when  we 
visited  and  has  been  so  for  many  years,  as  a  moat  would 
be  but  as  slight  obstructure  in  modern  warfare.  But  it 
made  the  city  well  nigh  impregnable  in  the  mediaeval 
days  before  gunpowder  was  invented  and  when  most 
fighting  was  of  the  hand  to  hand  kind.  We  entered 
the  city  through  an  arched  gate  and  crossed  the  moat  on 
a  bridge  which  could  be  drawn  up  in  case  of  attack.  At 
present  the  gate  is  always  kept  lowered,  but  it  could  be 
drawn  up  if  necessary.  It  was  easy  to  picture  in  the 
mind's  eye  as  we  looked  at  these  relics  of  former  days, 
the  feudal  barons  of  the  age  of  chivalry,  sallying  forth 
from  this  ancient  stronghold  on  their  steeds  to  make 
war  or  to  plunder  and  prepared  to  retreat  behind  this 
moat  and  wall  where  they  would  be  safe  in  the  event 
that  they  were  opposed  by  superior  forces.  I  could  not 
but  think,  as  I  stood  upon  this  historic  ground,  that  we 
ourselves  were  making  history  and  that  the  fight  that 
we  were  then  preparing  to  make,  while  less  romantic 
than  the  skirmishes  of  the  feudal  barons,  was  vastly 
more  important  to  the  welfare  of  the  world. 

Situated  as  it  is  upon  an  eminence,  a  view  that  is  be- 
yond description  is  to  be  obtained  from  Langres.  From 
the  ramparts  one  may  see  the  upper  valley  of  the  Marne 
with  its  checkerboard  of  farms  of  various  hues;  the 
Yosges ;  and  on  a  clear  day  the  white  peak  of  Mont 
Blanc,  one  hundred  and  sixty  miles  distant. 

In  strong  contrast  with  the  way  in  which  ancient  war- 
riors entered  Langres,  we  were  loaded  onto  motor 
trucks  and  taken  up  the  steep  and  winding  way  that 
led  to  the  gates  of  the  city  by  means  of  the  most  mod- 
ern way  of  transportation.    Our  eyes  were  fastened  on 

Twenty-eight 


the  oddities  of  this  strangely  interesting  city  as  we 
wound  through  the  streets,  some  of  which  were  nar- 
row, others  wide,  past  well  kept  parks  and  buildings 
older  than  most  of  the  modern  governments,  and  we 
were  filled  with  a  sort  of  reverence  for  this  historic 
spot  as  we  took  our  places  in  the  barracks  made  ready 
for  us. 

CHAPTER  IV 

Nearing  the  Front 

After  we  were  installed  in  the  barracks  at  Langres 
and  had  our  personal  belongings  straightened  out,  we 
were  given  the  day  to  ourselves.  This  was  tne  first 
freedom  that  we  had  had  since  our  arrival  in  France. 
The  boys,  of  course,  all  went  to  the  business  section  of 
the  city,  where  many  of  them  were  given  their  first 
glimpse  of  French  customs  and  French  methods  of 
merchandising.  As  I  had  been  fortunate  in  getting  into 
the  business  section  of  Brest  while  we  were  there,  this 
was  not  new  to  me,  but  to  most  of  the  boys  it  was  a 
novel  experience.  They  spent  their  time  and  much  of 
their  money  in  the  French  stores,  buying  small  articles 
of  various  kinds.  One  oddity  of  the  freedom  that  we 
were  given  here  was  the  fact  that  the  American  soldiers, 
although  forbidden  to  buy  alcoholic  liquors  in  America, 
were  permitted  to  buy  them  without  restrictions  in 
France,  and  it  is  only  telling  the  plain  truth  to  say 
that  many  of  them  sampled  the  French  beers,  wines  and 
cognac. 

I  had  an  experience  in  a  French  barber  shop  that  may 
be  of  interest,  as  it  shows  the  difference  between 
French  and  American  barbers.  The  French  barber  does 
his  work  very  rapidly,  in  fact  so  rapidly  when  he  is 
shaving  that  the  patron  wonders  whether  or  not  he  is 
going  to  get  out  of  the  chair  uninjured.  I  ordered  a 
haircut,  a  shave,  a  shampoo  and  a  face  massage.    I  had 

Twenty-nine 


much  difficulty  at  first  in  making  my  wants  understood, 
particularly  as  to  the  manner  in  which  I  wanted  my  hair 
cut.  This  finally  made  clear,  I  sat  in  the  chair  and  the 
barber  went  to  work  on  me  with  his  sharp  shears.  His 
hands  moved  like  lightning  and  it  seemed  like  no  more 
than  two  minutes  that  he  had  the  job  done.  It  was  the 
fastest  hair  cutting  I  ever  witnessed  and  a  good  job, 
too.  He  then  proceeded  to  shave  me,  and  for  speed  he 
exceeded  his  already  phenomenal  record  as  a  hair  cutter. 
He  put  a  thin  lather  on  my  face  and  then  with  a  thin 
razor — the  thinnest  I  ever  saw — he  slashed  off  a  four 
days'  growth  with  six  strokes — one  down  the  right 
cheek,  one  down  the  left  cheek,  one  acrosstheentireupper 
lip,  one — a  fancy  curved  stroke — across  the  chin,  then 
up  one  side  of  the  neck  and  a  final  stroke  up  the  other. 
In  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell,  the  job  was  done,  and 
it  was  a  clean  smooth  shave  too.  But  while  he  was 
slashing  that  razor  around  I  was  uneasy.  It  was  my 
first  and  last  experience  with  a  French  barber;  there- 
after, it  was  safety  first.  The  massage  was  excellent, 
but  what  impressed  me  about  the  shampoo  was  the 
small  amount  of  water  used.  Water  must  be  costly  in 
Langres  from  the  way  that  barber  conserved  it,  but 
with  no  more  than  a  handful  of  water,  he  did  his  work 
well.  The  face  waters  used  by  French  barbers  are  all 
highly  perfumed,  in  fact,  too  much  so  for  the  rough 
Westerner.  When  a  man  leaves  a  barber  shop  he 
carries  a  sickening  sweet  aroma  with  him  and  his 
friends  know  where  he  has  been  when  he  is  as  much  as 
a  hundred  yards  away.  It  may  be  of  interest  to  note 
that  the  shave,  hair  cut,  shampoo  and  massage  cost  me 
two  and  a  half  francs,  or  a  little  less  than  50  cents 
American  money.  The  price  of  the  same  service  in  the 
average  American  shop  at  the  present  time  (August, 
1919)  would  be  about  $1.65. 

The  following  day  the  men  in  our  detachment  were 

Thirty 


assigned  to  various  kinds  of  work  at  Langres.  I  was 
given  a  motor  truck  to  drive.  It  was  in  very  poor  con- 
dition and  my  first  duty  was  to  get  it  in  working 
order.  I  spent  three  days  overhauling  it  and  had  it  in 
fair  serviceable  shape.  But  after  putting  all  this  work 
on  it,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  running  it  only  about  three 
days,  for  I  received  orders,  along  with  208  others,  to 
pack  and  get  ready  for  a  special  course  in  a  military 
school.  I  had  only  half  an  hour's  time  to  get  ready,  but 
at  the  appointed  time  I  was  prepared  to  go,  and  with 
the  boys  chosen  for  the  schooling,  was  loaded  onto  a 
motor  truck  and  taken  to  Fort  St.  Menge,  one  of  the 
numerous  protecting  forts  around  Langres.  This  was 
an  old  fort,  apparently  built  many  years  ago.  It  was 
situated  on  the  summit  of  a  mountain  and  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  moat,  which,  however,  was  dry.  It  was 
substantially  built  and  exceedingly  interesting.  The 
barracks  were  built  underground  and  of  stone.  They 
were  sealed  and  were  water-tight.  Soil  from  ten  to 
fifteen  feet  in  depth  covered  these  stone  compartments 
and  they  were  proof  from  the  bombs  of  other  days, 
but  would  have  but  feebly  resisted  the  modern  high 
explosives.  There  were  also  several  tunnels  leading 
from  various  parts  of  the  interior  to  the  outer  walls, 
so  that  men  could  be  taken  to  any  part  of  the  fort  that 
might  be  attacked  without  being  exposed  to  the  enemy's 
fire.    About  a  thousand  men  could  be  billeted  there. 

Water  for  this  fort  was  supplied  from  two  deep  wells 
and  raised  by  a  peculiar  lift  pump,  different  from  any 
that  I  ever  saw  before.  It  was  a  sort  of  combination  of 
a  lift  and  pressure  pump  and  was  of  European  design 
and  manufacture.  The  wells  were  deep  and  the  water 
good,  for  France. 

On  the  day  after  our  arrival  there  we  commenced  our 
work.  We  were  given  a  stiff  drilling  for  three  weeks, 
with  scarcely  a  minute's  rest.    We  often  worked  until 

Thirty-one 


two  or  three  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Our  daily  routine 
was  as  follows:  Arise  at  5  o'clock;  breakfast  at  6;  calis- 
thenics and  manual  of  arms  drill  from  6:30  to  7:30;  in- 
struction from  8  to  12;  lunch  from  12  to  1 ;  instruction 
from  1  to  5;  evening  instruction  from  7  to  10,  and 
often  until  1,  2  or  3  o'clock  the  next  morning.  It  was 
here  that  we  received  advanced  learning  in  intelligence 
lines  for  our  work  in  the  war. 

We  studied  with  French  and  American  instruments 
such  as  were  then  being  used  by  the  Allied  armies  on 
the  western  front.  I  cannot  describe  these  instruments 
in  detail  or  tell  much  about  our  instruction  because  I 
have  given  my  oath  never  to  reveal  any  of  the  details 
of  this  work.  I  am  permitted,  however,  to  name  some 
of  these  instruments,  such  as  the  subterranean  micro- 
phone, sizorscope,  horoscope,  perpendicular  and  hori- 
zontal range  finder,  elongated  three-power  French 
binocular,  instruments  for  determining  the  height  of 
airplanes,  etc.  We  had  to  acquire  a  practical  knowl- 
edge in  the  use  of  all  these  instruments,  as  they  were 
to  be  our  future  implements  of  warfare,  and  in  matters 
of  this  kind,  accuracy  is  of  vast  importance.  We  also 
had  to  learn  the  signals  of  the  French,  British,  Italian 
and  American  aviators;  the  international  Morse  code; 
to  send  and  receive  messages  perfectly  under  all  con- 
ditions; to  have  a  practical  knowledge  of  the  use  of 
telephone  and  telegraph  instruments;  their  attention 
and  repair;  and  how  to  keep  the  lines  of  communication 
in  working  order  at  all  times  and  under  any  and  all 
conditions. 

From  this  brief  summary,  it  can  be  readily  under- 
stood that  the  Government  crowded  plenty  of  work 
upon  us  during  those  three  weeks.  At  the  completion 
of  the  courses  examinations  were  given,  and  only  86 
of  us  out  of  a  class  of  208  succeeded  in  reaching  the 
required  percentage.    Of  the  others  most  remained  to 

Thirty-two 


take  the  course  for  another  three  weeks,  while  a 
few  were  released  from  the  work  as  not  qualified  for 
that   particular  kind  of  service. 

All  the  time  that  we  were  studying  we  were  drilled 
just  as  though  we  were  actually  at  war.  We  were 
compelled  to  dig  in,  to  find  the  range  on  certain  objects 
and  to  direct  imaginary  artillery  fire  upon  them.  We 
had  to  find  the  range  of  airplanes  that  passed  over 
us,  just  as  though  they  were  enemy  planes.  This 
drilling  was  as  near  like  actual  warfare  as  it  was 
possible  to  make  it  and  because  of  this,  we  grasped 
the  meaning  of  our  work  and  the  details  very  quickly. 

We  were  also  drilled  thoroughly  in  the  art  of  camou- 
flage. To  be  successful  in  camouflage,  one  must  learn 
to  imitate  nature  and  that  is  what  we  had  to  study, 
and  one's  tracks  must  always  be  covered.  A  successful 
bit  of  camouflage  not  only  deceives  the  eyes  of  the 
enemy  aerial  observers,  but  it  also  deceives  the  lens 
of  the  enemy  camera.  To  make  this  perfectly  clear,  it 
should  be  said  that  the  lens  of  cameras  used  in  war- 
fare are  exceedingly  delicate  and  frequently  when  the 
plate  of  an  aerial  photograph  is  developed,  it  reveals  a 
spot  that  means  some  extraordinary  work  on  the  part 
of  the  enemy,  which  the  eyes  of  the  aviator  did  not 
detect.  It  can  be  readily  understood,  therefore,  that 
unless  the  camera  is  also  deceived,  the  camouflage 
has  not  been  well  done,  for  enemy  planes,  having 
located  the  spot  by  means  of  their  photograph,  could 
plan  to  bomb  it,  but  if  the  plate  did  not  show  anything, 
then  the  camouflage  is  successful. 

While  we  were  at  Fort  St.  Menge  we  received  our 
gas  masks  and  we  were  compelled  to  go  through  many 
gas  mask  drills.  This  was  done  so  we  would  become  effi- 
cient in  putting  them  on  when  we  got  to  the  front  line. 
With  a  little  practice  we  got  so  we  could  adjust  them  in 
a  remarkably  short  time.    We  were  also  given  our  steel 

Thirty-three 


helmets  while  here,  and  we  realized  fully  that  we  were 
getting  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  scene  of  action,  and 
that  our  sham  warfare  would  soon  give  way  to  actual 
fighting.  We  were  also  drilled  in  rifle  shooting  and  by 
the  time  we  were  ready  to  leave,  we  were  in  every  way 
fit  to  participate  in  the  great  struggle  in  which  we 
were  soon  to  take  part. 

As  soon  as  our  schooling  was  completed,  we  were 
told  to  get  ready  to  leave  for  Langres,  so  we  packed 
up  and  we  were  compelled  to  "hike"  back  to  that  city. 
At  Langres  we  spent  two  days  in  getting  ready  for  the 
front.  We  were  ordered  to  leave  fully  equipped  with 
the  best  of  those  things  that  we  had  to  have.  This 
meant  that  new  articles  were  issued  to  many  of  us. 
For  instance,  if  a  man  had  a  pair  of  shoes  that  was 
partly  worn,  he  was  given  a  new  pair,  and  some  of 
our  old  clothes  were  turned  in  for  new  garments. 
These  were  two  busy  days  and  our  time  was  entirely 
occupied  in  getting  ready.  We  were  limited  as  to  the 
things  we  could  take  with  us.  We  were  given  our 
barrack  bags  and  told  to  put  in  these  bags  all  the 
things  that  we  had  to  leave  and  that  those  of  us  who 
returned  would  receive  their  bags  when  they  got  back. 
My  bag  contained  a  number  of  toilet  articles,  clothes 
and  other  articles  that  I  took  with  me  from  the  United 
States.  I  never  saw  that  bag  again,  as  I  was  gassed 
and  wounded  and  never  went  back  to  Langres,  but  I 
suppose  that  it  has  long  since  become  the  property  of 
some  one  else. 

When  we  were  ready  to  leave  Langres  we  marched 
with  full  equipment  to  a  station  three  miles  from  the 
barracks  we  were  leaving,  where  we  were  billeted  in 
wooden  billets.  Here  we  spent  the  night.  We  had  to 
get  up  at  4  o'clock  in  the  morning  to  take  an  early 
train.  It  was  a  bitter  cold  morning,  but  we  did  not 
notice  this  much,  as  we  were  on  our  way  to  the  scene 

Thirty-four 


of  action  and  our  thoughts  were  on  the  future.  A  cup 
of  coffee,  a  couple  of  doughnuts  and  a  bun  was  the 
only  breakfast  that  we  had,  but  it  was  all  we  wished. 
We  carried  traveling  rations,  of  which  we  made  good 
use  later  on.  We  boarded  the  train  at  4:30  o'clock  and 
rode  on  a  fast  passenger  train  until  11  o'clock,  when 
we  arrived  at  Toul.  We  traveled  in  second  and  third 
class  passenger  coaches.  At  Toul  we  were  well  re- 
ceived by  the  Red  Cross,  which  furnished  us  with  some 
food,  and  this,  together  with  our  traveling  rations, 
provided  us  with  a  hearty  meal. 

We  left  Toul  at  1  o'clock  and  marched  toward  the 
front.  We  were  soon  within  the  sound  of  the  heavy 
guns.  We  continued  on  the  road  for  several  hours,  and 
then,  as  we  were  getting  into  the  zone  where  shells  fell 
occasionally,  we  were  told  to  thin  out  our  ranks  so  that 
if  a  shell  fell  among  us  our  casualties  would  be  light. 
From  then  on,  we  marched  about  eight  or  ten  feet  apart 
in  single  file  on  each  side  of  the  road.  We  were  ordered 
to  wear  our  steel  helmets  as  a  protection  against 
shrapnel.  Some  did  not  see  the  need  of  doing  this, 
but  most  of  us  were  glad  to  take  the  precaution.  We 
crossed  several  narrow  gauge  tracks  on  our  march,  and 
saw  trains  carrying  supplies  of  all  kinds  to  the  battle 
front.  They  were  pulled  by  gasoline  engines.  We  also 
saw  our  first  barbed  wire  entanglements.  These  were 
built  back  of  the  lines  as  a  protection  to  the  French  in 
case  the  Germans  should  break  through  on  that  front. 
They  were  about  twenty-five  feet  in  width  and  extended 
north  and  south  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see.  Later  on 
we  saw  barbed  wire  entanglements  as  much  as  250  feet 
in  width,  put  up  as  a  barrier  to  the  Boche,  should  they 
break  through. 

Airplanes  were  now  very  numerous.  They  were  dart- 
ing back  and  forth  at  various  heights.  We  were  anxious 
to  see  an  airplane  battle,  but  none  took  place  on  that 

Thirty-five 


front  on  that  day.  We  could  see  observation  balloons 
in  the  distance.  Those  in  the  very  far  distance  we  knew 
to  be  enemy  observers. 

We  marched  until  7  o'clock,  when  we  reached  a  woods, 
where  we  were  permitted  to  stop.  We  were  given  our 
evening  meal,  which  consisted  of  bully  beef  and  hard 
tack.  The  woods  was  our  sheltering  place  for  the  night. 
Some  of  the  boys  said  they  slept  well  that  night,  but  I 
will  be  absolutely  truthful  and  say  that  I  did  not.  The 
knowledge  that  we  were  under  shell  fire  and  the  un- 
foreseen events  that  the  immediate  future  held  in  store 
for  me  so  weighed  upon  my  mind  that  I  could  scarcely 
close  my  eyes.  I  really  do  not  understand  how  any  of 
the  boys  slept.  We  could  hear  the  screech  of  the  shells 
as  they  whizzed  by,  but,  fortunately,  none  of  them  hit 
near  us.  Only  a  few  days  before  several  hundred  Ameri- 
can boys  were  gassed  in  this  same  woods,  and  our  gas 
guard  kept  a  close  watch  for  gas  shells. 

The  next  day  we  proceeded  on  toward  the  Verdun 
front.  We  marched  all  day  long,  with  only  occasional 
stops.  We  were  not  in  the  open,  however,  going  from 
one  woods  to  another;  when  we  marched  in  the  open, 
o  n  ly  small  bodies  of  men  would  move  at  a 
time.  At  11  p.  m.  we  stopped  marching  and  made  our 
camp  for  the  night.  Most  of  the  boys  were  so  weary 
from  their  long  "hike"  that  they  wrapped  up  in  their 
overcoats,  lay  down  on  the  ground  and  went  right  to 
sleep.  We  remained  three  days  here  waiting  for  orders. 
We  were  near  the  front,  could  hear  the  guns  all  the 
time  and  the  occasional  rattle  of  a  machine  gun.  When 
our  orders  did  finally  come,  we  were  told  to  march 
back  over  part  of  the  same  route  we  had  come  and  we 
finally  stopped  close  to  Novient.  It  was  here  that  we 
saw  our  first  action  and  it  was  here  that  we  finished 
our  education  in  the  work  that  we  were  to  do  under 
the  supervision  of  the  French,  who  held  this  front  before 
it  was  taken  over  by  the  Americans. 

Thirty-six 


CHAPTER  V. 
Preparation  for  Battle 

We  were  billeted  at  Novient  for  three  days  in  wrecks 
of  buildings  that  had  been  ruined  by  Hun  shells.  At 
first  we  did  not  do  much  work  because  it  was  not  defin- 
itely known  whether  or  not  we  were  to  remain  there. 

Although  we  were  in  the  war  zone  and  under  shell 
fire  at  all  times,  we  were  amazed  when  we  learned  that 
there  were  still  a  few  French  peasants  in  the  vicinity. 
These  were  mostly  old  men  and  old  women,  and  a  few, 
but  very  few,  children.  These  peasants  would  not  leave 
their  old  homes,  though  requested  to  do  so  by  the 
French  Government.  They  preferred  to  remain  there 
and  be  killed  by  a  Hun  Shell,  if  that  was  to  be  their 
fate,  than  to  leave  the  spot  that  they  so  dearly  loved. 
The  young  men  of  these  towns  were  all  fighting  at  the 
front  and  the  young  women  had  gone  to  the  larger 
cities,  farther  from  the  front,  where  they  found  employ- 
ment at  good  wages. 

Most  of  these  old  peasants  kept  a  cow  or  two  and  a 
few  chickens  and  they  sold  milk  and  eggs  to  the  Ameri- 
can soldiers,  thus  realizing  a  small  profit  for  their  great 
hazard.  We  paid  seven  francs  or  about  $1.35  for  a  dozen 
eggs  and  four  francs  or  about  70  cents  for  a  gallon  of 
milk.  We  were  indeed  glad  to  get  these  luxuries,  even 
at  these  prices  and  considered  ourselves  fortunate.  In 
Novient  two  beer  shops  were  also  conducted  and  sold 
the  soldiers  light  wines  and  beers,  the  prices  being  one 
franc  or  nearly  20  cents  for  a  small  bottle  of  beer,  five 
francs  for  a  bottle  of  red  wine  and  from  seven  to  ten 
francs  for  a  bottle  of  white  wine. 

After  three  days  at  Novient,  we  moved  forward  to- 
ward the  trenches,  where  we  were  to  complete  our 
training  for  work  in  the  Flash  Service.  At  this  time 
we  were  divided  into  small  detachments,  there  being 
fourteen  men  in  the  detachment  to  which  I  was  assigned. 

Thirty- seven 


We  were  taken  to  a  woods  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from 
Novient,  and  there  had  our  first  introduction  to  the 
French  S.  R.  O.  T.,  or  service  similar  to  our  Flash 
Service. 

In  this  woods  we  were  billeted  underground,  where 
we  were  protected  from  shell  fire.  Each  detachment 
was  billeted  with  an  equal  number  of  French,  and  it 
was  from  the  fourteen  French  in  our  detachment  that 
we  were  to  complete  our  education  for  the  special  work 
for  which  we  were  preparing.  In  other  words,  we  were 
to  learn  the  practical  application  from  the  French  of  the 
knowledge  that  we  had  learned  in  the  school  at  Fort 
St.  Menge. 

Our  first  experience  in  actual  war  work  was  in  an  ob- 
servation tower  in  this  woods.  This  tower  was  65  feet 
in  height.  It  was  cylindrical  in  form  and  built  of  steel 
about  half  an  inch  in  thickness.  The  interior  was  about 
five  feet  in  diameter.  In  the  tank  (so-called)  was  a 
lookout  post  for  observation  work.  It  had  small  slits 
on  all  sides  that  could  be  readily  opened  and  shut, 
through  which  we  were  to  take  our  observations.  We 
entered  the  tower  through  a  trap  door  in  the  bottom, 
and  the  men  working  at  the  post  locked  the  door  while 
they  were  at  their  duty.  The  tower  was  erected  in  a 
thick  growth  of  tall  trees,  and  was  well  camouflaged.  It 
was  securely  hidden  from  Hun  eyes,  yet  gave  us  a  full 
view  of  the  Hun  trenches  in  that  vicinity.  It  was  from 
this  tower  that  I  first  saw  the  enemy,  and  got  my  first 
glimpse  of  the  Hun  lines  and  got  my  first  full  view  of 
a  modern  battlefield. 

The  French  outer  trench  was  only  one-quarter  of  a 
mile  from  this  tower.  The  German  trenches  were  just 
a  little  way  beyond  those  of  the  French,  the  distance 
varying  from  fifty  yards  to  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  accord- 
ing to  the  terrain.  With  our  strong  glasses,  we  could 
get  an  excellent  view  of  everything  that  Fritz  did  in 
this   part   of  the   line. 

Thirty-eight 


In  this  tower  the  French  taught  us  their  secrets  of 
observation  in  modern  warfare.  They  showed  us  how 
to  locate  German  batteries,  machine  gun  nests,  rail- 
roads, troop  movements,  supply  trains,  aerial  activity, 
observation  balloons,  etc.  We  paid  particular  attention 
to  watching  how  often  Hun  airplanes  arose,  where  they 
crossed  our  lines,  whether  or  not  they  were  fired  on 
by  our  anti-aircraft  guns,  the  number  of  Hun  planes  in 
the  air,  the  purpose  of  their  flights,  etc.  It  was  particu- 
larly important  to  get  the  point  where  the  German 
aviators  crossed  the  Allied  lines.  Their  planes  followed 
a  system  in  this  so  as  to  try  to  avoid  our  anti-aircraft 
guns.  They  would  cross  at  a  certain  point  for  one  or 
two  days,  then,  believing  that  if  they  attempted  to  cross 
there  again  they  would  meet  with  a  warm  reception, 
they  would  change  the  location,  thus  keeping  the  Allies 
guessing  all  the  time.  The  French  remained  with  us 
about  ten  days,  during  which  time  we  acquired  sufficient 
knowledge  to  take  up  the  work  ourselves,  and  the 
American  troops  then  took  over  this  section  of  the  line. 

Our  conveniences  while  here  were  not  good,  but  they 
were  as  good  as  we  expected.  We  accepted  our  lot  with- 
out protest.  All  our  provisions  had  to  be  carried  in  at 
night  on  our  backs,  as  it  would  have  been  dangerous  for 
a  supply  train  to  attempt  to  bring  anything  in  during 
the  day.  There  was  no  water  at  all  in  our  immediate 
vicinity.  That  which  we  used  for  cooking  and  drinking 
purposes  had  to  be  carried  from  a  spring  about  three- 
quarters  of  a  mile  distant.  While  going  to  this  spring 
on  one  occasion,  we  located  a  blackberry  patch,  which 
gave  us  a  little  diversion.  We  conserved  our  flour  for 
several  days,  and  then  picked  enough  blackberries  for 
pie.  On  two  occasions  we  had  blackberry  pie  and  it  is 
no  exaggeration  to  say  that  it  was  absolutely  the  best 
morsel  of  food  that  any  of  us  had  ever  tasted.  It  was  a 
luxury,  I  venture  to  say,  that  but  few  soldiers  in  the 

Thirty-nine 


extreme  front  line  trenches  were  privileged  to  enjoy. 

A  few  days  after  the  French  left  this  front  to  us,  we 
became  aware  that  we  were  preparing  for  some  big 
military  manoeuver.  What  it  was,  of  course,  we  were  not 
told;  we  knew,  however,  that  it  was  to  be  on  a  gigantic 
scale.  It  subsequently  developed  that  We  were  prepar- 
ing for  the  great  St.  Mihiel  drive,  that  wonderful  in- 
dependent plunge  into  German  lines  by  American 
troops,  which  straightened  out  the  St.  Mihiel  salient 
and  showed  definitely  to  the  Germans  that  ultimately 
they  were  to  be  defeated. 

A  brief  description  of  this  preparation  may  be  of 
interest.  Our  first  intimation  of  this  manoeuver  was 
the  bringing  up  of  great  quantities  of  ammunition.  This 
was  placed  in  the  woods  and  well  camouflaged.  Next, 
heavy  artillery  came  up  in  greater  quantities  than  we 
had  any  idea  that  the  American  army  had  in  France. 
Then  light  artillery  was  brought  up  in  numbers  propor- 
tional to  the  heavy  guns.  Then  thousands  of  fresh 
troops  were  marched  up  and  placed  under  the  cover  of 
the  woods.  These  men  marched  up  at  night,  so  as  not 
to  be  seen  by  Hun  airplanes.  It  should  be  stated  here 
that  during  this  preparation  Allied  air  machines  had 
complete  mastery  of  the  aerial  situation  and  as  soon  as 
a  Hun  plane  appeared  on  the  horizon,  it  was  pursued 
until  it  either  was  brought  down,  or  it  escaped  back 
to  its  lines. 

While  the  infantry  was  stationed  in  these  woods,  no 
time  was  lost.  The  men  were  given  their  final  instruc- 
tions in  fighting  Bosch.  They  were  drilled  hard  every 
day  and  they  became  particularly  efficient  in  the  use 
of  the  bayonet,  a  weapon  that  in  the  hands  of  a  Yank 
the  Germans  fear  worse  than  anything  else  that  I 
know  of.  Rifle  practice,  of  course,  could  not  be  indulged 
in  while  in  these  woods,  because  the  noise  might  attract 
German    attention,    but    bayonet   drills    never   ceased. 

Forty 


Thorough  drilling  was  also  given  in  the  use  of  machine 
guns.  Men  were  instructed  how  to  repair  guns,  were 
told  what  to  do  in  case  certain  parts  of  the  gun  were 
injured,  were  shown  how  to  take  guns  apart  and  put 
them  together  again,  and  before  the  end  of  the  drilling, 
these  men  became  as  efficient  in  machine  gun  work  as 
Fritz  himself. 

The  last  step  of  the  preparation  was  the  bringing  up 
of  the  tanks.  These  came  up  at  night  in  great  numbers. 
There  were  tanks  of  all  kinds,  from  the  huge  British 
machines  to  the  "petite"  or  little  French  tank.  These 
were  also  camouflaged  and  concealed  in  the  woods. 
After  the  tanks  were  brought  up,  their  gunners  were 
given  a  final  thorough  drilling  in  the  use  of  their  guns, 
their  machines,  etc.  We  had  never  before  seen  such  a 
vast  equipment  of  war  material. 

It  is  difficult  to  express  my  feelings  during  the  final 
days  of  this  preparation.  I  knew  that  something  of  a 
gigantic  nature  had  been  planned  and  that  the  time  was 
close  at  hand.  I  also  knew  that  whatever  it  was  it 
would  surely  succeed,  for  nothing  could  resist  the  com- 
bined force  of  all  that  preparation  when  the  final  word 
was  given.  I  cannot  but  admit  that  enormous  quantity 
of  ammunition,  the  vast  number  of  light  and  heavy 
guns,  the  thousands  of  men  ready  for  the  fray,  caused 
me  to  feel  a  certain  indescribable  sadness,  for  I  knew, 
that  although  success  was  sure  to  follow  our  drive, 
some  of  these  brave  boys  were  to  pay  the  price  with 
their  lives.  On  September  11th,  the  boys  were  drilled 
for  the  last  time.  We  were  then  required  to  strip  our 
bodies  of  all  our  clothes  and  to  smear  ourselves  with  a 
salve.  This  was  a  preparation  that  was  designed  to 
protect  the  body  from  burns  in  case  we  encountered  the 
deadly  mustard  gas. 

After  dark  and  all  during  the  night  there  was  a  steady 
stream  of  men  going  to  their  positions  in  the  trenches. 

Forty- one 


They  knew  that  the  time  for  the  manoeuver  to  start  was 
near,  but  whether  it  was  to  be  24  or  48  hours,  they  did 
not  know.  But  we  of  the  Flash  Service  did;  we  knew 
that  at  one  minute  past  midnight  on  the  morning  of 
September  12th,  the  zero  hour,  the  Germans  were  to  be 
given  their  great  surprise  party,  and  we  counted  the 
minutes  as  they  were  ticked  off  the  watch  until  that 
time  arrived. 

CHAPTER  VI 

The  Great  St.  Mihiel  Drive 

It  was  exactly  at  12  :01  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  Sep- 
tember 12th,  when  the  great  St.  Mihiel  drive  began,  and 
when  all  the  preparation  of  which  I  told  in  the  preced- 
ing chapter  was  brought  into  play  in  the  first  great 
independent  movement  of  American  troops,  which  was 
to  give  the  Germans  a  warning  of  what  they  were  to 
expect  from  the  army  from  across  the  seas,  of  which 
they  had  so  sneeringly  spoken.  The  drive  opened  with 
a  demoralizing  barrage,  the  greatest  of  the  kind  that, 
up  to  that  time,  had  ever  been  laid  down  by  artillery. 
It  greatly  exceeded  in  the  number  of  guns  brought  into 
action  and  in  amount  of  ammunition  used,  any  barrage 
that  either  the  Germans  or  the  Allies  had,  prior  to  that 
time,  attempted.  It  was  like  letting  hell  loose  upon 
the  Germans  in  the  salient  at  all  points  within  the 
range  of  our  guns.  Language  is  inadequate  to  describe 
this  barrage  and  none  except  those  who  were  actual 
participants  in  the  drive  will  be  able  to  visualize  in  the 
mind  the  terror  that  General  Pershing's  guns  belched 
forth  on  that  momentous  occasion.  Those  who  have 
imaginative  minds  may  be  able  to  form  some  faint  con- 
ception of  what  this  great  battle  was  like,  if  they  can 
picture  thousands  of  guns — heavy,  medium  and  light — 
belching  forth  their  fire  with  ceaseless  regularity  for 

Forty -two 


six  long  hours.  It  was  pitch  dark  when  the  first  guns 
opened  with  their  roar,  but  it  was  not  long  before  the 
heavens  were  lighted  with  a  brilliant  pyrotechnic  dis- 
play, something  like  elaborate  Fourth  of  July  fireworks, 
but  multiplied  by  millions  in  intensity.  The  heavy  artil- 
lery spit  forth  long  flames  as  they  were  discharged. 
The  long  flash,  the  rapidity  with  which  it  is  dashed  from 
the  gun  muzzle,  and  its  sudden  disappearance,  reminded 
me  of  a  serpent's  tongue.  And  serpents'  tongues  they 
were,  indeed,  to  German  hopes,  for  as  sure  as  these 
are  facts,  the  St.  Mihiel  drive  sealed  the  doom  of  the 
despised  Huns.  As  far  as  the  eye  could  see,  these 
flashes  were  being  repeated  at  stated  intervals,  and  in 
front  of  them  were  the  smaller  and  more  rapid  flashes 
of  the  medium  artillery;  and  adding  their  flame,  smoke 
and  noise  to  the  din  far  out  in  front  was  the  famous 
light  artillery,  which  did  such  effective  work  throughout 
the  war. 

It  was  not  long  after  the  barrage  began  before  the 
Germans  began  to  throw  star  shells.  These  were  for 
the  purpose  of  lighting  up  No  Man's  Land.  They  are 
thrown  to  a  height  of  several  hundred  feet,  and  as  they 
slowly  descend,  they  burn  a  brilliant  white  light.  These 
added  to  the  brilliancy  of  the  fireworks.  The  object  of 
the  Germans  in  throwing  these  star  shells  was  to  keep 
No  Man's  Land  lighted  so  as  to  be  ready  to  repel  our 
attack.  They  knew,  of  course,  that  our  barrage  was 
to  be  followed  up  with  a  charge,  but  they  did  not  know 
at  what  hour  it  was  to  be  launched.  The  star  shells 
were  thrown  so  that  they  could  not  be  taken  unawares 
in  the  dark. 

Far  behind  the  line  in  Fritz'  territory  we  could  see 
our  shells  bursting.  The  telltale  flash  meant  that  the 
Huns  were  getting  a  dose  of  severe  medicine,  though  we 
could   at   that   moment    only   guess    at    the   destruction 

Forty-three 


that  was  being  wrought.  Later  we  were  to  see  the 
havoc  worked  by  our  accurate  artillerymen. 

The  object  of  this  demoralizing  barrage  was  to  break 
up  the  morale  of  the  Germans  and  in  general  to  pave 
the  way  for  our  infantry  charge  that  was  to  follow.  It 
shattered  the  German  trenches,  plowed  through  their 
barbed  wire  entanglements  and  kept  those  who  sur- 
vived in  a  state  of  great  nervous  tension,  because  they 
knew  a  great  charge  was  to  follow.  Our  guns  were 
also  trained  on  such  objects  as  headquarters,  railroads, 
heavy  artillery  emplacements,  cross  roads,  ammunition 
dumps,  aviation  hangars,  etc.,  from  information  that 
had  previously  been  obtained  by  the  Flash  and  Sound 
Ranging  sections.  The  heavy  artillery  did  great  damage 
far  in  the  rear.  The  medium  artillery,  not  having  the 
range  of  the  heavy  guns,  did  not  reach  so  far  back  with 
its  fire,  but  demoralized  things  generally  wherever  its 
shells  hit.  It  also  had  for  its  purpose  the  breaking  up 
of  any  attack  that  might  be  planned  as  a  counter  of- 
fensive. The  light  artillery  is  of  smaller  caliber  and 
fires  more  rapidly.  This  did  wonderful  execution  and 
was  a  great  help  in  winning  the  war. 

It  was  exactly  6  o'clock  when  the  demoralizing  bar- 
rage stopped,  and  it  was  followed  by  a  protecting  bar- 
rage. There  is  quite  a  difference  between  a  demoraliz- 
ing barrage  and  a  protecting  barrage.  A  demoralizing 
barrage  is  just  what  its  name  signifies,  a  demoralizing 
rain  of  shells  upon  the  enemy.  A  protecting  barrage  is 
for  the  purpose  of  protecting  the  infantry  as  it  charges 
into  the  enemy's  lines  and  it  is  raised  slowly  as  the  in- 
fantry advances  so  as  to  keep  over  the  heads  of  the 
marching  soldiers.  As  soon  as  the  protecting  barrage 
was  fired  in  this  drive,  the  first  waves  of  infantry  went 
over  the  top. 

Most  people  have  a  misconception  of  what  going 
over  the   top  is.     The  prevailing  idea  is  that  a  great 

Forty-four 


mass  of  troops  rush  over  the  top  and  into  the  German 
trenches.  What  really  occurs  is  this :  The  men  climb 
out  of  the  trenches  at  an  ordinary  pace  in  a  thin  line 
from  six  to  ten  feet  apart.  This  is  followed  in  a  few 
seconds  by  another  thin  line  about  the  same  distance 
apart,  and  then  another,  and  so  on  until  there  are 
thousands  of  men  advancing  over  No  Man's  Land,  but 
they  are  scattered  over  a  large  area.  The  object  in 
scattering  them  is  to  reduce  losses  in  case  an  enemy 
shell  falls  among  them.  I  have  seen  a  shell  fall  among 
men  advancing  this  way  without  hitting  any  of  them, 
and  I  have  also  seen  several  fall  from  a  single  shell. 
Another  reason  for  these  thin  waves  is  the  fact  that 
when  advancing  in  this  formation  the  men  offer  a 
poorer  target  to  the  machine  guns  of  the  enemy,  while 
in  mass  formation,  a  machine  gun  could  mow  down  in 
a  short  time  a  whole  company. 

Just  ahead  of  the  waves  of  infantry  in  this  drive, 
wiggled  the  tanks.  These  cumbersome,  awkward,  ugly 
but  efficient  machines  were  of  great  help  to  the  foot 
soldiers.  They  not  only  made  a  path  through  the  barbed 
wire  entanglements  that  the  artillery  had  not  destroyed, 
but  they  hunted  out  and  destroyed  German  machine  gun 
nests,  which  were  so  dangerous  to  the  infantry.  The 
tanks  had  a  very  difficult  task  and  they  performed  it 
well.  Too  much  credit  cannot  be  given  to  the  tank 
crews.  They  were  brave,  skillful  and  good  fighters. 
It  is  true  they  were  in  a  measure  protected  behind  the 
steel  walls  of  the  machine,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  they 
were  exposed  to  heavy  fire,  it  was  hot  and  disagreeable 
within  and  in  case  of  being  struck  by  a  shell  or  running 
onto  a  mine,  the  horrors  were  worse  than  those  to 
which  other  fighters  were  exposed.  The  greatest  dan- 
ger was  that  of  being  trapped  within  and  burned  to 
death  in  case  a  shell  hits  the  gasoline  tank;  a  number 
were  destroyed  in  that  manner.     So  I  give  full  credit 

Forty-five 


to  the  tank  men  for  their  heroic  services — they  braced  the 
greatest  dangers  without  knowing  such  a  word  as  "fear." 

As  our  boys  went  over  the  top  they  were  given  the 
protection  of  an  aerial  squadron.  Only  those  who  were 
advancing  toward  the  Hun  lines  on  that  day,  with  full 
realization  of  their  duties  and  their  dangers,  know 
what  a  feeling  of  protection  these  hovering  planes  gave 
us.  They  flew  low,  frequently  just  over  the  heads  of 
the  men,  and  poured  their  deadly  machine  gun  fire  into 
such  of  the  Hun  trenches  as  the  artillery  had  not  de- 
stroyed— and,  no  matter  how  thoroughly  the  artillery 
does  its  work,  there  is  always  plenty  left  for  the  other 
branches  of  the  army  to  do.  These  daring  airmen  also 
dropped  fishtail  bombs  on  the  Huns.  These  men  were 
the  bravest  of  the  brave.  They  had  the  courage,  grit 
and  combative  qualities  of  the  lion.  They  are  con- 
stantly in  great  danger.  They  are  fired  upon  from  below 
by  enemy  anti-aircraft  guns,  and  frequently  from  above 
by  enemy  planes.  They  are  also  exposed,  when  they 
fly  low,  to  rifle  fire  and  machine  guns  and  machines  are 
frequently  brought  down  by  such  fire.  During  a  drive 
of  this  kind  they  also  face  the  danger  of  running  into 
their  own  barrage  and  are  restricted  as  to  the  area  in 
which  they  may  manoeuver.  We  cannot  give  these 
fearless  men  of  the  flying  corps  too  much  praise  for 
their  work.  While  men  in  all  branches  of  the  American 
army  were  brave  and  all  did  their  duty,  I  think  the  air- 
men, like  the  tank  men,  deserve  a  special  meed  of 
praise  for  their  daring,  and  when  I  say  this,  I  intend  in 
no  way  to  detract  from  the  bravery  of  the  men  in  any 
other  branch  of  the  service. 

The  Flash  Service,  to  which  I  belonged,  was  not  a 
fighting  unit.  While  we  were  heavily  armed,  so  that 
we  could  defend  ourselves  and  fight  if  necessary,  we 
were  not,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word,  combatants. 
It  was  more  important  for  us  to  keep  the  lines  of  corn- 
Forty- six 


munication  in  working  order,  to  give  the  artillery  the 
range  on  certain  objects,  to  locate  machine  gun  nests 
and  direct  fire  upon  them  so  they  could  be  destroyed, 
than  to  fight,  for  there  were  sufficient  numbers  in 
other  branches  of  the  army  for  that  purpose.  But  we 
did  not  overlook  an  opportunity  to  help  our  cause,  and 
it  is  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  that  I  tell  of  a 
machine  gun  nest  of  thirteen  men  captured  by  three 
of  the  men  of  our  detachment,  though  of  a  different 
post  from  mine.  It  was  during  the  early  morning  of  the 
first  day  of  the  drive.  It  should  be  stated  that  the 
American  infantry  advanced  so  rapidly  that  it  fre- 
quently went  right  by  carefully  concealed  machine  gun 
nests.  This  was  just  what  the  Germans  wanted  them 
to  do,  because  they  opened  fire  from  the  rear  and  rained 
bullets  on  our  men  from  two  sides.  The  three  men 
that  captured  the  nest  of  which  I  am  telling  were  just  in 
back  of  the  second  wave  of  infantry  that  went  over  the 
top,  following  it  up  for  the  purpose  of  establishing  our 
line  of  communication  from  front  to  rear.  They  came 
upon  this  nest  as  the  Huns  were  preparing  to  fire  at 
our  advancing  men.  When  they  first  located  the  nest 
the  Americans  had  their  revolvers  carefully  wrapped  in 
greased  coils  and  in  their  holsters,  not  expecting  to  use 
them — the  greased  coils  being  to  keep  the  weapons  from 
rusting  from  the  dampness  of  the  trenches.  These  re- 
sourceful American  boys  lost  no  time,  however,  in 
getting  their  weapons  ready  for  use,  and  by  a  quick 
and  intrepid  manoeuver,  they  approached  the  Huns, 
covered  them  with  their  revolvers,  and  compelled  them 
to  surrender  without  so  much  as  firing  a  shot.  The 
Huns  were  taken  to  the  rear,  and  their  gun,  a  Vicker, 
became  a  trophy  of  war. 

It  was  about  9  o'clock  in  the  morning  while  we  were 
advancing  that  I  came  upon  a  petite  French  tank,  which 
had   run   upon   a  Hun   mine   and  had   been   completely 

Forty-seven 


destroyed.  The  machine  was  reduced  to  a  pile  of  junk, 
and  it  was  hardly  believable  that  a  mine  would  work 
such  destruction.  The  heavy  iron  was  torn  in  shreds, 
and  while  we  knew  it  was  a  tank  and  we  knew  what 
had  happened  to  it,  it  was  now  nothing  but  scrap  iron. 

Just  about  that  time  the  infantry  was  capturing 
thousands  of  Hun  prisoners — men  who  had  occupied 
the  front  German  trenches  and  who  were  overcome  by 
our  boys.  As  I  was  advancing,  I  saw  3,700  German 
prisoners  marching  to  the  rear,  and  as  it  was  still 
early  in  the  day,  you  may  know  with  what  thorough- 
ness our  boys  were  doing  their  work.  Among  these 
prisoners  was  a  German  officer  who  knew  the  location 
of  the  mines  that  had  been  planted  to  destroy  tanks, 
bridges,  roads,  etc.  The  Americans  were  not  long  in 
learning  this  and  they  compelled  him  to  point  out  these 
locations.  Under  his  guidance,  52  mines  were  destroyed. 
These  might  have  done  great  damage  to  American  tanks 
and  soldiers  if  they  had  not  been  set  off.  As  it  was, 
they  opened  a  pathway  through  which  our  tanks  passed 
without  danger. 

As  we  went  forward  into  the  territory  that  had  been 
held  by  the  Huns,  we  could  see  the  results  of  our  own 
work,  that  is  to  say,  we  could  see  objects  upon  which 
we  had  given  the  range  to  the  artillery,  completely  de- 
stroyed. It  was  gratifying  to  note  that  our  work  and 
the  work  of  the  artillery  had  been  so  accurate.  Objects, 
such  as  headquarters,  railroad  tracks,  cross  roads,  that 
we  had  located  through  our  strong  glasses  before  the 
drive,  and  upon  which  we  had  given  the  distance  to  the 
gunners,  had  been  shattered  by  direct  hits,  speaking 
wonders  for  the  marksmanship  of  the  American  gunners. 
At  some  places  we  saw  scores  of  men  and  animals 
that  had  been  killed  by  shell  fire;  at  others  we  saw 
trenches  that  had  been  as  completely  wiped  out  as 
though   they   never   existed;   we   also   saw  ammunition 

Forty-eight 


dumps  that  had  been  hit  and  set  afire  and  which 
burned  steadily  for  several  days.  These  were  exceed- 
ingly dangerous  places,  and  we  kept  a  good  distance 
from  them  until  they  burned  completely  out,  as  the 
exploding  shells  threw  flying  metal  for  a  distance  of  a 
hundred  yards  or  more.  We  also  came  across  railroad 
trains  that  had  been  hit  as  they  were  proceeding,  and 
so  badly  crippled  that  they  had  to  be  abandoned  by 
the  enemy,  later  to  be  captured  by  us. 

We  advanced  about  ten  kilometers  the  first  day,  and 
then  our  men  were  directed  to  dig  in.  Here  we  met 
with  our  first  real  resistance.  The  enemy  counter  at- 
tacked during  the  night,  but  his  charges  were  finally 
broken  up  by  our  accurate  fire. 

Our  advance  that  day  had  been  rapid  and  had  pene- 
trated deeply  into  the  enemy  line.  This  had  been  pos- 
sible because  of  the  rapidity  with  which  our  supplies 
had  been  brought  up.  The  roads  for  the  most  part  were 
not  badly  cut  up,  and  those  that  were  damaged  were 
quickly  repaired  by  our  engineers.  Bridges  had  been 
hastily  built,  obstructions  removed  from  highways,  and 
shell  holes  filled  in  so  that  traffic  could  go  on  almost 
uninterruptedly.  This  made  it  possible  for  all  necessary 
munitions  to  move  forward. 

One  thing  that  was  annoying  to  our  advance  was  the 
German  "pill  boxes"  in  which  machine  gunners  were 
placed.  These  pill  boxes  were  of  concrete.  They  were 
round  and  flat,  a  few  square,  and  took  their  name  be- 
cause of  their  resemblance  to  a  pill  box.  They  had  slits 
about  six  inches  wide  and  eighteen  inches  long  in  the 
concrete  through  which  the  Huns  fired  their  machine  guns 
at  our  troops.  Our  most  effective  weapon  against  these 
pill  boxes  was  our  one  pounders.  They  fired  a  small 
shell  directly  at  the  box  and  continued  to  fire  until 
they  got  the  range  of  the  slit.  The  shells  would  then 
penetrate   the   slit  and  hit  the  other   side  of  the  box, 

Forty-nine 


exploding  when  they  did  so,  and  killing  or  wounding 
the  occupants.  Once  the  range  was  obtained,  our 
gunners  kept  pouring  in  these  shells  until  there  was 
no  longer  any  fear  that  the  Fritz  soldiers  in 
that  box  would  harm  any  more  Americans.  Our  boys 
put  many  of  these  pill  boxes  out  of  commission  with 
big  loss  to  the  enemy.  They  made  duty  in  a  pill  box 
certain  death  for  the  Huns  when  any  Americans  were 
around. 

We  spent  a  rather  restless  night  after  our  first  day's 
advance.  Though  we  had  marched  many  miles  and 
were  mentally  and  physically  fatigued,  it  was  not  easy 
to  sleep.  We  were  in  constant  danger  of  counter  at- 
tack and  of  being  shelled  by  the  enemy,  and  the  sen- 
sation was  not  pleasant. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  September  13th,  the  second 
day  of  the  drive,  we  advanced  again  in  the  gray  of 
the  early  dawn.  It  was  between  8  and  9  o'clock  on 
this  morning  that  I  saw  a  great  aerial  fight  in  which 
probably  thirty-five  and  perhaps  forty  machines  par- 
ticipated. We  had  advanced  so  far  the  first  day  that  the 
Germans  sent  their  aircraft  out  in  numbers  on  the 
second  day  to  look  at  the  territory  that  had  been  lost. 
Our  men  were  ready  for  them.  It  was  the  most  thrill- 
ing sight  I  ever  witnessed,  and  I  cannot  imagine  any- 
thing more  sensational.  At  first  these  machines  were 
very  high  in  the  air,  perhaps  ten  thousand  feet,  for  they 
were  mere  specks  in  the  sky  to  the  natural  vision.  It 
was  wonderful  to  see  them  manoeuvering  for  positions 
of  advantage.  They  twisted,  turned,  looped  and  dove. 
At  times  two  or  three  would  be  very  close  together  and 
then  again  they  would  separate.  Little  white  puffs  of 
smoke  told  the  tale  that  the  machine  guns  were  in 
action.  They  reminded  me  of  bees  swarming,  as  they 
buzzed  and  circled  around  each  other  in  the  air.  As 
they    fought   they   descended,   coming   nearer    to    earth 

Fifty 


and  thus  plainer  to  our  vision.  Suddenly  one  dropped 
out  of  the  ranks,  a  struck  machine.  We  knew  it  was 
permanently  out  of  commission  the  minute  it  started  to 
fall,  for  it  dropped  like  a  dead  bird.  It  was  a  Hun 
machine  and  it  dropped  close  to  where  I  was  located, 
so  close  in  fact  that  within  a  few  minutes  I  was  in- 
specting it  and  taking  small  souvenirs  to  send  home 
from  its  collapsed  wings.  Then  another  dropped,  but 
it  fell  far  from  where  we  were  located  and  its  descent 
was  so  swift  that  we  could  not  see  its  insignia  and 
were  unable  to  tell  whether  or  not  it  was  a  Hun  ma- 
chine. Then  one  came  down  wounded,  but  still  able  to 
fly.  It  was  an  American  machine,  for  it  sought  refuge 
in  back  of  our  lines.  And  so  the  fight  continued  for  a 
few  minutes — it  did  not  last  long — until  a  total  of  eight 
machines  dropped  and  several  others  flew  away 
wounded.  Just  what  percentage  of  Hun  and  Allied 
planes  fell,  I  was  never  able  to  ascertain,  but  the  best 
evidence  that  the  majority  of  them  were  Hun  machines 
was  the  fact  that  the  remaining  enemy  planes  soon  de- 
parted from  the  aerial  battle  field,  leaving  the  Allied 
planes  in  complete  control.  The  Allied  fleet  of  planes  in 
this  fight  was  composed  mostly  of  Americans,  though 
our  airmen  were  aided  by  a  couple  of  British  and  a 
couple  of  French  machines. 

We  continued  our  advance  throughout  the  second 
day,  though  we  did  not  proceed  as  rapidly  as  on  the 
first  day.  This  was  because  the  roads  were  in  poorer 
condition  and  supplies  could  not  be  so  rapidly  moved 
forward  and  for  the  further  reason  that  the  country 
was  more  wooded  and  offered  Fritz  a  better  opportunity 
for  defense.  Our  boys  were  counter-attacked  on  sev- 
eral occasions,  but  each  time  they  sent  the  Huns  flying 
to  the  rear  with  heavy  losses.  In  hand  to  hand  fight- 
ing, such  as  often  resulted  when  counter  attacks  were 
lodged,  the  Germans  were  no  match  for  the  Americans, 

Fifty-one 


who  seemed  to  excel  in  close  work  which  required 
bravery,  skill  and  dash.  In  fact,  it  was  in  this  kind  of 
work  that  our  boys  showed  Fritz  what  we  mean  in 
America  by  "punch." 

On  the  third  day  we  advanced  as  far  as  Thiacourt, 
which  was  our  objective.  On  this  day  we  also  met  with 
stubborn  resistance.  It  was  here  that  we  encountered 
many  pill  boxes  and  it  required  considerable  difficult 
and  accurate  work  to  put  them  out  of  business. 

It  was  on  the  night  of  September  15th  that  we  saw  our 
hardest  fighting,  and  were  given  a  taste  of  how  hard 
Germans  could  fight  when  pressed.  It  was  on  this  night 
that  our  losses  were  the  heaviest  of  the  drive. 

My  post  was  dug  in  on  a  ridge  that  was  occupied  by  a 
detachment  of  incomparable  fighters — the  Marines.  The 
ridge  was  only  about  500  yards  in  length.  The  roads 
being  in  bad  condition,  we  were  unable  to  get  the  pro- 
tection of  any  artillery.  All  that  we  had  to  keep  Fritz 
at  bay  on  this  ridge  was  about  forty  machine  guns,  which 
were  no  match  for  the  heavy  shells  that  the  Huns  were 
pouring  on  us,  having  our  range  to  a  nicety.  We  were 
in  what  is  known  as  "graves,"  or  shallow  trenches,  not 
having  had  time  to  dig  deep  trenches  or  to  strengthen 
our  positions  as  we  were  constantly  under  fire.  But 
these  Marines  laid  down  a  machine  gun  barrage,  the 
first  that  I  had  ever  seen.  They  kept  up  the  fire  all 
night  and  thus  held  Fritz  away.  It  was  a  tense  period. 
Hun  shells  were  dropping  all  around  us  and  frequently 
right  among  us,  but  the  machine  guns  never  ceased 
their  excellent  defensive  work.  When  day  broke,  and 
the  Hun  ceased  firing,  only  seventeen  of  these  machine 
guns  and  their  crews  were  in  condition  to  fight. 
Twenty-three  of  them  had  been  destroyed  by  the  Ger- 
man artillery.  It  was  a  sad  sight  that  met  our  eyes 
the  morning  when  we  saw  the  losses  that  we  had 
suffered  during  the  night. 

Fifty-two 


It  was  on  the  night  of  the  fourth  day  of  the  drive 
that  fresh  men  were  brought  up,  and  those  of  us  who 
had  been  out  in  front  during  the  drive  were  relieved. 
It  was,  indeed,  a  great  relief.  It  permitted  us  to  relax 
our  bodies  and  minds  after  four  days  of  steady  strain, 
with  no  more  food  than  was  sufficient  to  sustain  us  and 
without  rest  during  the  entire  time.  We  were  grateful 
to  be  away  for  a  short  time  from  the  devastating  fire 
that  the  Huns  were  pouring  into  our  front  line  trenches 
in  an  endeavor  to  check  a  further  penetration  into  their 
lines,  but  we  were  still  under  shell  fire. 

We  were  taken  a  short  distance  to  the  rear,  where 
we  were  billeted  in  German  dugouts.  The  day  before 
these  had  been  occupied  by  German  officers.  They 
were  elaborately  fitted  up  with  all  things  necessary  for 
luxury  and  comfort,  such  as  beds,  bathtubs,  electric 
lights,  etc. 

It  was  here,  seemingly  as  a  reward  for  my  small 
services  in  the  great  fight,  that  I  met  my  friend  and 
companion,  McKinley  Johnston,  of  Sacramento.  Noth- 
ing could  have  pleased  me  more  for  McKinley  Johnston 
is  like  a  brother  to  me,  having  been  my  companion 
since  boyhood.  It  was  with  him  that  I  had  talked  of 
enlisting  long  before  I  volunteered,  and  it  was  he  who 
enlisted  with  me.  Though  we  became  soldiers  together 
and  entered  the  same  company,  the  fortunes  of  war 
separated  us  in  France,  and  united  us  at  a  moment  that 
was  most  gratifying  to  us  both.  We  sat  down  together 
and  related  our  experiences.  He  was  driving  a  truck, 
and  from  him  I  learned  of  remarkable  escapes  that  he 
had  had  from  death  during  the  four  days  of  the  drive. 
On  one  occasion  a  Hun  shell,  sufficient  in  size  to  have 
blown  him  _to  atoms,  lodged  in  his  truck  among  supplies 
and  failed  to  explode.  I  saw  the  shell  myself,  also  saw 
the  hole  in  the  top  of  the  truck  through  which  it  passed 
and  can  vouch  for  the  truthfulness   of  the   story.    On 

Fifty-three 


another  occasion  a  shrapnel  shell  exploded  on  the  road 
just  to  the  right  of  his  truck.  When  it  burst,  it  sent 
small  pieces  of  metal  flying  in  all  directions.  About 
twenty-five  or  thirty  of  these  passed  through  his  truck, 
but  not  one  struck  him.  I  saw  the  holes  they  made. 
The  motor  of  the  truck  was  not  as  fortunate  as  the 
driver.  A  number  of  the  pieces  passed  through  the 
hood  and  lodged  in  the  engine.  It  was  damaged  con- 
siderably, but  it  still  ran  and  McKinley  was  able  to 
complete  his  trip.  I  marveled  at  these  stories  because 
they  concerned  a  young  man  of  whom  I  am  very  fond, 
but  escapes  of  this  kind  were  numerous  in  these  days 
and  almost  every  soldier  who  passed  through  the  drive 
can  truthfully  tell  of  similar  escapes.  We  were  facing 
death  all  the  time  and  the  remarkable  thing  is  that  so 
many  of  us  did  pass  through  the  drive  and  come  out 
alive. 

CHAPTER  VII 
Gassed 
One  of  the  happiest  days  that  I  experienced  during  the 
period  that  I  was  at  war  was  on  Friday,  September  20, 
1918.  On  this  day,  after  having  made  several  visits  to 
our  new  posts  in  the  tront  line,  I  came  back  to  our 
billet,  where,  to  my  delight  and  surprise,  I  found  eight 
letters  from  home  awaiting  me.  No  one  knows  the 
joy  that  a  letter  from  home  gives  to  a  soldier  on  the 
firing  line.  It  is  like  taking  him  out  of  hell  and  placing 
him  back  on  earth  again.  For  several  days  we  had 
been  in  the  very  thickest  of  the  fight,  facing  death  at 
every  minute,  seeing  our  companions  fall  around  us, 
doing  everything  we  possibly  could  to  help  our  side 
win,  and  willing  to  go  back  and  do  it  all  over  again 
without  complaint — and  then  to  get  these  welcome 
letters  from  dear  ones  9,000  miles  away  right  in  the 
midst  of  it  all.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  on  such  occasions 
we  frequently  gave  way  to  our  emotions? 

Fifty-four 


The  letters  that  I  received  were  enjoyed  not  only  by 
me,  but  by  my  companion,  McKinley  Johnston,  as  well, 
as  he  knew  all  of  my  people  and  was  as  familiar  as  I 
was  with  the  things  that  they  wrote  about.  It  is  a 
peculiar  circumstance,  but  it  is  a  fact,  nevertheless, 
that  all  of  the  boys,  even  those  who  did  not  know  my 
folks  and  who  came  from  other  States  than  California, 
were  interested  in  these  letters.  They  were  news  from 
home  and  that  is  what  all  the  boys  were  craving.  They 
wanted  to  read  anything  that  came  from  America.  So, 
after  reading  the  letters,  I  passed  them  all  around  and 
every  boy  in  the  camp  read  them.  After  getting  the 
letters  back,  I  read  them  over  several  times.  Several 
of  them  contained  photographs  of  familiar  scenes  and 
faces,  and  it  seemed  good  to  look  upon  them  again, 
for  no  one  knew  but  that  it  might  be  the  last  time  we 
would  see  them.  I  thought  it  would  be  a  nice  thing  to 
sit  right  down  and  write,  after  reading  these  letters,  but 
when  I  attempted  it,  I  was  so  overcome  with  emotion 
caused  by  thoughts  of  those  who  were  near  and  dear 
to  me,  that  I  was  unable  to  give  expression  to  my 
thoughts. 

The  position  of  the  American  troops  at  this  time  was 
not  favorable.  The  enemy  held  the  commanding  ground, 
and  was  concealed  in  woods,  while  our  troops  were  out 
in  the  open.  The  Boche  could  see  what  we  were  doing 
while  we  were  unable  to  detect  his  moves.  This  dis- 
advantage, you  might  well  know,  would  not  long  be 
tolerated  by  Americans.  We  wanted  the  commanding 
ground  and  we  wanted  to  put  Fritz  in  the  open.  So 
on  Monday,  September  23rd,  we  gave  Fritz  a  three- 
hour  barrage  and  it  was  a  hot  one.  By  the  time  the 
barrage  started,  all  our  light  artillery  had  been  brought 
up  and  put  in  place,  and  we  were  able  to  rain  shells 
from  the  famous  75's  upon  the  enemy  in  torrents.  This 
barrage  was  for  the  purpose  of  breaking  up  the  morale 

Fifty-five 


of  the  Germans.  We  were  counter-barraged  by  the 
Huns,  and  for  a  time  they  made  it  hot  for  us.  But  our 
superiority  began  to  show  after  about  an  hour's  firing. 
The  men  in  the  Flash  Division  worked  hard  to  give  our 
gunners  the  correct  location  of  the  German  batteries. 
We  worked  hard  and  fast  and  the  accuracy  of  our 
effort  was  shown  by  the  silencing  of  the  German  guns. 
One  by  one  they  ceased  firing,  as  the  American  artillery, 
with  the  data  we  supplied  them,  dropped  shells  on  the 
Hun  batteries. 

It  was  just  about  5 :45  in  the  morning  when  our  ar- 
tillery ceased  firing  and  our  boys  advanced  again.  This 
time  our  objectives  were  only  about  two  kilometers  in 
back  of  the  German  front  trenches.  We  met  with 
stubborn  resistance  at  first,  but  with  the  usual  Ameri- 
can determination  and  pluck,  we  soon  forced  the  Boche 
back. 

It  was  here  that  I  first  saw  the  German  minnewafers 
and  trench  mortars  at  work.  The  shells  thrown  from 
the  minnewafers  are  as  much  feared  as  any  German 
weapon  of  war.  They  are  thrown  from  a  large  gun 
with  a  smooth  bore  and  short  barrel.  The  projectile  is 
shaped  like  a  rolling  pin,  though  it  is  much  larger.  In 
each  end,  or  handle  of  the  shell,  is  a  cap,  which  ex- 
plodes as  the  handle  strikes  the  ground.  As  the  pro- 
jectile somersaults  as  it  travels,  one  handle  or  the 
other  is  sure  to  hit  the  earth,  so  there  are  no  "duds" 
that  I  saw  among  these  shells.  They  explode  with  a 
terrific  racket  and  tear  up  the  earth  for  a  great  dis- 
tance around  the  spot  where  they  land.  They  are  not 
thrown  very  high  in  the  air,  and  are  intended  for  use 
in  close  fighting,  that  is  to  say,  two  or  three  hundred 
yards.  As  the  shells  whirl  through  the  air,  you  can 
plainly  hear  them  whistling,  and  if  you  look  sharply 
you  can  occasionally  see  them  coming.  These  minne- 
wafers and  mortars  are  of  various  ranges — from  three 

Fifty -six 


and  four  inches  up  to  twelve  and  fourteen  inches.  Aside 
from  these  trench  guns,  the  Germans  in  this  fight  also 
resisted  heavily  with  machine  gun  nests  and  one 
pounders. 

In  going  over  the  top  this  time,  we  did  not  have  the 
protection  that  we  did  when  the  St.  Mihiel  drive 
started.  In  other  words,  we  did  not  have  any  tanks 
or  any  aerial  protection,  but  had  to  advance  with  only 
such  help  as  the  artillery  could  give  us. 

The  Germans  were  well  protected  and  it  took  clever 
work  to  outwit  them.  Their  machine  gun  nests  were 
always  cleverly  concealed.  Many  of  them  were  con- 
cealed in  trees,  and  it  was  a  common  sight  to  see  our 
infantrymen  advance  unseen  by  the  machine  gunners, 
and  then  with  their  rifles,  shoot  them  out  of  the  trees. 
I  had  seen  machine  gun  nests  in  trees  before,  but  never 
so  many  as  this  time.  Not  only  were  they  numerous, 
but  they  were  so  well  provided  with  ammunition  that 
they  could  fire  thousands  of  rounds  of  shells,  if  neces- 
sary. I  have  seen  long  belt?  of  cartridges  hanging  to 
limbs  of  trees,  all  ready  for  use  on  the  part  of  the 
gunners.  I  have  also  seen  many  of  these  belts  at- 
tached together  so  as  to  provide  an  almost  endless  chain 
of  cartridges  for  the  gun.  Under  one  tree  where  there 
had  been  a  nest,  I  saw  empty  cartridge  shells  eight 
inches  deep,  which  was  some  shooting  for  a  short 
fight  such  as  this  was.  That  machine  gun  had  cer- 
tainly done  all  that  could  be  expected  of  it. 

We  gained  our  objectives  at  4  o'clock  of  the  afternoon 
of  the  day  the  drive  started.  We  were  then  in  the  best 
possible  position,  so  far  as  ground  is  concerned,  as  it 
was  possible  for  us  to  occupy.  We  had  taken  the  com- 
manding ground  from  Fritz,  and  we  began  digging  in  so 
as  to  be  ready  for  a  counter  attack.  All  during  that 
night  we  dug  our  trenches,  making  them  deep  and  as 
safe   as   possible.     Between   3   and   5   o'clock  the   next 

Fifty-seven 


morning,  the  expected  attack  came.  We  experienced 
a  heavy  shelling  from  the  German  artillery.  Of  course, 
our  light  artillery  that  had  been  hastily  brought  up  was 
not  slow  in  returning  the  fire.  Our  barrage  was  very 
accurate  and  eventually  the  Huns  were  silenced. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  I  was  called  upon  to  witness 
the  greatest  horror  of  war — that  of  seeing  some  of  my 
dearest  friends  fall  from  the  enemy's  fire  before  my 
very  eyes.  I  was  working  in  a  post  with  three  other 
men.  We  had  been  constantly  together  since  the  drive 
began  and  our  hardships  that  we  had  undergone  resulted 
in  a  bond  of  friendship  that  held  us  together  like 
brothers.  All  three  of  these  men  were  killed  during  this 
barrage.  Two  of  them  were  instantly  killed  and  the 
third  lived  but  a  short  time  after  being  hit,  dying  about 
6  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

When  you  consider  that  we  were  working  in  a  post 
that  was  not  more  than  twelve  feet  in  diameter,  you 
may  well  imagine  my  feelings  as  I  saw  these  boys  fall. 
I  fully  expected  that  my  turn  would  come  at  any  minute, 
but  I  kept  at  work  so  as  to  keep  my  mind  off  the 
greusome  surroundings. 

The  next  twenty-four  hours  were  about  the  worst  that 
I  experienced  throughout  the  war.  My  post  was  right 
out  in  front,  and  I  was  the  only  man  left  in  it.  Our 
communication  lines  had  been  badly  cut  up  by  German 
shells,  and  I  was  unable  to  make  a  report  of  the  dis- 
aster that  our  post  had  suffered  to  headquarters.  I 
could  not  leave  the  post,  because  I  could  not  leave  the 
instruments.  They  were  too  valuable  to  be  left  there 
with  no  one  guarding  them,  and  it  would  not  do  to 
leave  any  chance  of  their  falling  into  the  hands  of  the 
enemy.  So  I  remained  at  the  post  all  day.  About  7 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  men  from  headquarters  fixed  the 
communicating  lines  and  I  made  my  report  of  the  loss 
of  three  men.    Help  was  immediately  dispatched  to  me, 

Fifty-eight 


but,  because  we  were  heavily  shelled  again  that  night 
by  the  Huns,  it  was  impossible  for  aid  to  reach  me.  It 
was  not  until  4  o'clock  the  next  morning  that  a  detach- 
ment reached  the  post  and  I  was  relieved. 

A  detachment  was  also  sent  from  headquarters  for 
the  purpose  of  removing  the  bodies  of  my  three  dead 
companions.  They  were  taken  back  of  the  lines  to  a 
beautiful  spot  in  the  woods,  and  there  they  were  buried. 
Because  of  the  fondness  of  the  men  of  our  detachment 
for  these  and  for  the  further  reason  that  fighting  had 
slackened  up  some,  we  were  able  to  give  these  men  a 
little  better  burial  than  is  accorded  most  soldiers  who  fall 
on  the  field  of  battle.  In  most  cases  a  grave  is  dug,  the 
body  wrapped  in  a  blanket  and  deposited  without  a 
casket  and  without  ceremony.  But  for  these  boys,  some 
of  the  men  in  our  detachment  made  boxes  to  serve  as 
coffins  out  of  material  that  we  had  captured  from  an 
engineering  dump.  One  big  grave  was  dug  and  the 
bodies  were  laid  in  it  side  by  side.  One  of  the  boys 
said  a  prayer  and  the  graves  of  these  brave  lads,  way 
out  there  in  the  woods  in  France,  were  covered  over. 
This  is  one  of  the  incidents  of  the  war  that  will  never 
leave  my  mind,  as  two  of  the  boys  were  among  my 
dearest  friends. 

I  realize  that  my  escape  from  death  while  at  that 
post  was  by  a  narrow  margin.  It  seemed  to  be  the 
beginning  of  a  number  of  miraculous  escapes,  such  as 
many  soldiers  experience.  Mine  came  in  such  rapid 
succession  that  I  began  to  have  a  feeling  that  Fritz 
would  get  me  yet.  About  11  o'clock  at  night  on  the 
30th  of  September  I  was  aroused  from  my  bed  in  a  dug- 
out to  repair  the  communication  lines,  it  being  part  of 
the  duty  of  our  detachment  to  keep  the  lines  in  working 
order  when  not  observing.  It  wasn't  very  pleasant,  of 
course,  to  get  out  of  bed  in  the  middle  of  the  night, 
but  this  was  the  luckiest  call  that  I  had  ever  had.     I 

Fifty-nine 


had  not  been  out  more  than  five  minutes  when  Fritz 
scored  a  direct  hit  with  a  big  shell  upon  that  billet, 
destroying  everything  it  in.  If  I  had  not  been  called 
out,  I  would  have  been  killed.  Fortunately  for  our  post, 
all  the  other  members  were  on  duty  at  the  time,  so  we 
all  escaped.  But  while  I  escaped  with  my  life,  the  shell 
destroyed  all  of  my  personal  belongings.  This  resulted 
in  my  discomfiture  for  many  days,  as  I  will  relate.  I 
had  previously  captured  a  pair  of  German  officer's 
boots,  which  I  would  put  on  when  called  out  at  night, 
rather  than  my  regulation  army  shoes  and  leggins.  On 
this  night  I  slipped  on  these  boots,  and  my  army  shoes 
were  torn  to  shreds.  Therefore,  I  was  compelled  to 
wear  the  German  boots,  and  they  were  the  most  un- 
comfortable things  that  I  had  ever  had  on  my  feet. 
Though  they  were  my  size,  I  could  not  get  used  to  them, 
and  they  burned  and  blistered  my  heels  so  that  I  could 
hardly  walk.  As  we  were  way  out  in  front,  it  was 
not  easy  to  get  new  shoes  from  headquarters.  My  foot 
troubles  became  so  serious  that  my  officer  granted  me 
a  day  off  duty  for  the  purpose  of  trying  to  find  a  pair 
of  shoes  that  would  fit  me.  I  spent  the  entire  time 
in  a  fruitless  search.  I  found  several  pairs  of  shoes  that 
belonged  to  boys  who  had  been  killed,  but  they  would 
not  fit  me,  so  finally  I  had  to  give  it  up.  I  wore  those 
Boche  boots  sixteen  days,  and  I  had  to  keep  going  all 
the  time  with  sore  and  blistered  feet.  I  suffered  more 
from  those  German  boots  than  from  anything  else  in 
the  war. 

On  October  4th  I  had  another  interesting  experience 
and  narrow  escape,  which  was  as  close  as  any  that  I 
ever  want  to  experience.  I  was  one  of  a  detail  that 
was  sent  after  water.  We  had  to  go  from  our  dugouts 
a  distance  of  about  two  kilometers.  On  our  way  there 
we  were  walking  in  a  gully.  Fritz  had  probably  used 
that  gully  for  the  same  purpose  himself  when  he  held 

Sixty 


that  ground,  and  he  probably  knew  that  we  would  be 
using  it  too.  At  any  rate,  he  had  the  range  to  a 
nicety.  On  our  way  he  first  dropped  a  number  of  gas 
shells  around  us.  We  hastily  put  on  our  masks  and 
escaped  injury.  But  the  gas  shells  were  followed  by  a 
few  high  explosives.  A  flying  fragment  severed  the 
air  tube  of  my  gas  mask.  This  meant  immediate  death, 
unless  there  was  quick  action.  I  had  the  presence  of 
mind  to  take  hold  of  the  tube,  so  as  to  prevent  any 
gas  from  entering  my  lungs,  and  then  I  ran  to  high 
ground.  The  reason  I  sought  high  ground  is  because 
the  chlorine  gas  is  heavy  and  settles  in  low  places  and 
is  not  likely  to  be  as  thick  if  high  ground  can  be 
reached.  I  was  accompanied  by  one  of  the  buddies, 
who  saw  my  plight  and  ran  to  assist  me.  By  a  stroke 
of  luck  that  seems  almost  unbelievable,  we  ran  across  a 
salvage  dump  on  the  ridge  to  which  we  ran,  and  there 
we  found  a  good  gas  mask,  which  I  hurriedly  slipped 
on,  and  used  until  a  new  one  was  issued  to  me.  As  if 
to  add  insult  to  injury,  while  I  was  having  trouble  with 
the  mask,  I  was  struck  on  the  shoulder  by  a  piece  of 
shrapnel.  The  fragment,  however,  had  about  spent  its 
force,  and  while  I  was  knocked  down  by  the  force  of 
the  blow  and  suffered  from  a  bruised  shoulder  for  sev- 
eral days,  the  skin  was  not  broken  and  my  injury  did 
not  reach  the  dignity  of  a  wound. 

We  proceeded  on  and  got  our  water,  and  on  our  way 
back  we  were  shelled  again  when  we  were  in  approxi- 
mately the  same  place.  This  time  one  of  the  men  re- 
ceived a  small  scratch  from  a  piece  of  flying  shell.  It 
just  broke  the  skin  between  the  knee  and  the  thigh, 
but  was  so  small  that  it  did  not  cause  any  inconven- 
ience. Shortly  after  this,  another  bit  of  shrapnel  hit 
my  helmet  and  knocked  it  off  my  head.  I  gave  the  boys 
cause  for  a  hearty  laugh  as  I  scrambled  on  all  fours 
after  my  "tin  derby,"  and  no  doubt  I  cut  an  amusing 

Sixty -one 


figure.  Fritz  seemed  to  be  picking  on  me  all  day,  but 
I  was  glad  that  I  got  off  so  lightly  after  being  exposed 
to  so  much  danger. 

There  is  no  room  for  sentiment  in  the  army.  Birthdays 
usually  don't  mean  much.  It  just  happened,  however, 
that  I  had  a  day  off  of  post  on  October  6th,  and,  that 
being  my  birthday,  the  occasion  was  made  doubly  pleas- 
ant. But  the  thing  that  made  the  day  a  perfect  one 
for  me  was  the  fact  that  when  I  reached  headquar- 
ters I  found  fourteen  letters  from  home.  I  have 
already  told  how  happy  I  felt  when  I  received  eight 
letters — well,  fourteen  made  me  feel  just  twice  that 
happy.  They  were  from  relatives  and  friends  and  no 
gift  could  have  made  my  birthday  more  pleasant. 

October  16th  was  another  red  letter  day  for  me.  On 
that  date  I  had  a  detail  to  pack  in  supplies,  and  I  had 
the  great  fortune  to  find  a  new  pair  of  shoes,  just  my 
size.  What  a  relief  to  get  rid  of  those  uncomfortable 
ill-fitting,  detestable  German  boots.  If  there  was  one 
thing  that  made  me  hate  Germans  worse  than  anything 
else,  it  was  those  horrid  German  boots.  The  boys  said 
they  were  a  hoodoo  and  that  if  I  continued  to  wear 
them  Fritz  would  get  me  sure.  However  that  may  be, 
I  did  not  cease  to  have  close  calls.  The  very  next  day  I 
got  a  small  sniff  of  chlorination  gas.  It  happened  while 
I  was  fixing  communication  lines.  I  did  not  get  enough 
to  hurt  me,  but  it  made  me  deathly  sick.  I  was  unable 
to  do  much  for  a  couple  of  days,  and  was  taken  to  head- 
quarters, where  I  was  assigned  to  the  duty  of  fixing 
communication  lines,  which  were  constantly  in  danger 
of  being  broken.  On  October  24th  two  of  us  were  sent 
to  repair  a  break,  which  we  located  at  5  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  Dawn  was  just  breaking  and  the  place  where 
we  found  the  break  was  in  the  woods.  The  Germans 
had  during  the  night  thrown  a  lot  of  chlorine  gas  shells 
into  this  woods,  so  we  donned  our  masks.     The  break 

Sixty-two 


in  the  line  was  a  difficult  one  to  repair.  We  soon  found 
that  we  could  not  do  it  with  our  gas  masks  on — one  or 
the  other  must  take  his  mask  off.  We  could  not  return 
without  making  the  repair.  To  a  soldier  there  is  no 
such  word  as  fail.  It  is  either  do  or  die.  The  buddy 
who  was  with  me  was  a  married  man  with  a  baby  at 
home.  I,  being  unmarried,  could  certainly  not  ask  him 
to  take  off  his  mask,  while  I  kept  mine  on.  So  I 
stripped  mine  off,  made  the  repair,  and  while  doing  so 
was  gassed  severely.  With  the  aid  of  the  buddy,  I  was 
able  to  reach  our  billet.  There  I  was  put  on  a  stretcher 
and  taken  to  a  field  dressing  station.  As  the  old  saying 
goes,  it  never  rains  but  it  pours;  gassing  was  not  the 
only  trouble  I  was  destined  to  experience  on  that  day. 
As  I  was  being  carried  to  headquarters  a  shell  ex- 
ploded nearby  and  I  was  struck  in  the  leg  by  a  piece 
of  shrapnel.  It  was  a  small  but  painful  wound  just 
below  the  left  knee.  I  tried  to  accept  it  with  a  smile, 
and  I  was  really  glad  that  I  was  struck  instead  of  one 
of  the  other  men,  as  I  was  already  out  of  the  fight, 
while  if  one  of  them  had  been  wounded,  it  would  have 
been  two  out  of  commission  instead  of  one. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Hospital  Experiences. 

After  being  gassed  and  wounded,  I  was  taken  imme- 
diately to  a  dressing  station,  where  the  wound  in  my 
leg  was  carefully,  but  hurriedly  dressed  and  my  throat 
was  swabbed  with  a  preparation  used  in  all  hospitals  to 
relieve  the  severe  burning  in  the  throat  caused  by  gas. 
Of  all  the  unpleasant  experiences  that  I  had  at  war,  this 
throat  swabbing  was  the  worst.  It  seemed  to  me  like 
the  surgeon  who  performed  this  act  had  found  in  my 
throat  a  bottomless  pit,  and  as  the  swab  went  up  and 
down   my  burning  esophagus,  I   suffered  great   agony. 

Sixty -three 


Although  I  knew  this  treatment  was  necessary,  if  I  was 
to  recover  speedily  from  the  gas  burns,  I  could  scarcely 
endure  it. 

As  soon  as  the  wound  in  my  leg  was  dressed  and  my 
throat  doctored,  I  was  examined  as  to  my  physical  con- 
dition by  a  Major,  who  labeled  me  with  a  tag  upon  which 
was  written,  "tuberculosis."  This,  of  course,  was  very 
annoying  and  caused  me  considerable  worry.  It  was 
certainly  not  a  pleasant  word  for  one  to  receive  when 
lying  in  the  condition  that  I  then  was.  But  I  afterwards 
learned,  much  to  the  relief  of  my  mind,  that  this  tag 
had  been  put  on  me  by  the  Major  as  a  warning  to  the 
next  surgeon  into  whose  hands  I  should  fall,  against 
tuberculosis.  In  other  words,  in  my  condition,  it  was 
necessary  to  take  precautions  against  the  white  plague. 

I  experienced  great  pains  in  my  throat  and  lungs 
from  the  gas  and  seemed  to  be  choking.  My  strength 
was  entirely  gone,  and  I  was  about  as  miserable  as  one 
could  be.  I  could  not  utter  a  sound  and  any  attempt  to 
speak  only  increased  my  pain.  I  relate  these  facts  about 
the  agony  that  I  suffered  simply  to  show  what  a  terri- 
ble weapon  of  war  this  deadly  phosgene  gas  is,  and  to 
emphasize  the  villainy  of  the  Hun  government  in  using 
it  after  having  agreed  with  other  nations  years  before 
not  to  do  so. 

I  was  placed  on  a  cot  and  made  as  comfortable  as 
possible  under  the  circumstances  and  was  awaiting  a 
motor  truck  to  take  me  to  a  base  hospital.  On  all  sides 
of  me  were  other  wounded  and  gassed  boys.  Some  of 
them  were  exceedingly  jolly  and  talkative,  notwith- 
standing their  pitiable  condition.  I  remember  one  boy 
in  particular,  who  was  about  my  own  age.  He  was  going 
over  on  a  raid  and  was  shot  through  the  temple.  The 
bullet  entered  on  one  side  an  inch  or  two  above  the 
eye,  and  went  straight  through,  passing  out  the  other 
side  at  about  the  same  distance  above  the  eye.  It  passed 
through  apparently,  without  striking  the  brain,  and  the 

Sixty-four 


boy  was  fully  conscious  while  the  wound  was  dressed 
and  seemed  to  be  quite  jolly.  I  watched  the  surgeon 
shave  both  sides  of  his  head  around  the  wound  to  pre- 
vent infection,  and  then  carefully  dress  his  head,  with- 
out administering  any  anesthetic.  I  marveled  at  the 
boy's  condition,  with  such  a  nasty  wound,  but  what  sur- 
prised me  still  more  was  several  months  later  when  I 
was  on  board  ship  on  my  way  home,  there  was  this 
same  boy  with  his  wound  entirely  healed.  Two  little 
white  scars,  one  on  each  temple,  were  the  only  marks 
that  told  of  his  awful  experience. 

From  the  dressing  station  I  was  taken  to  a  field  hos- 
pital, about  fifteen  kilometers  to  the  rear,  and  there 
placed  in  a  ward  in  a  tent.  The  purpose  of  the  field 
hospital  is  to  treat  soldiers  who  are  too  severely  wound- 
ed to  be  taken  to  base  hospitals.  My  wound  was  again 
examined,  cleaned  and  dressed  and  again  the  terrible 
swab  went  its  depth.  About  4  o'clock  that  afternoon  I 
was  loaded  into  another  stretcher  on  an  ambulance  and 
taken  to  Base  Hospital  51  at  Toul.  The  distance  from 
the  field  hospital  to  Toul  was  about  twenty-five  kilo- 
meters and  we  did  not  reach  there  until  about  9  o'clock 
that  night.  The  trip  was  a  rough  one,  and  I  suffered 
greatly.  I  positively  believe  my  recovery  would  have 
been  much  faster,  had  I  not  been  transferred  so  hastily 
to  this  hospital.  I  was  placed  in  a  ward  in  a  large  hos- 
pital built  of  stone.  In  this  hospital  the  wounded  men 
were  classified  in  accordance  with  the  nature  of  their 
wounds.  I  was  not  long  in  this  hospital  when  a  nurse 
took  charge  of  me,  and  again,  I  received  that  awful 
swab.  Each  time  it  seemed  worse  than  before  and  how 
I  dreaded  the  time  when  it  was  to  be  given  again  I  But 
much  to  my  surprise  and  pleasure,  my  treatment  was 
changed  at  this  hospital.  My  chest  and  throat  were 
massaged  by  the  nurse  with  an  oil  that  brought  me  im- 
mediate relief.  This  nurse  continued  this  treatment  sev- 
eral times  a  day  and  night  and  I  began  to  feel  a  little 

Sixty-five 


better.  All  this  time,  however,  I  was  unable  to  utter  a 
word,  and  I  began  to  wonder  whether  or  not  my  speech 
was  permanently  injured.  In  my  predicament,  however, 
I  soon  learned  the  sign  language.  It  is  remarkable  how 
well  a  man  can  make  himself  understood  merely  by  the 
use  of  his  hands.  I  had  no  trouble  at  all  in  making  my 
wants  known.  I  was  in  the  base  hospital  at  Toul  for 
fourteen  days  and  all  of  that  time  I  coughed  up  great 
chunks  of  solid  matter  and  mouthfuls  of  blood,  as  the 
result  of  the  burning  that  I  had  received.  After  the 
seventh  day,  the  nurse  stopped  the  use  of  the  swab, 
much  to  my  delight,  but  continued  the  more  appreciated 
massage. 

On  the  morning  of  my  fifteenth  day  at  this  hospital, 
I  was  able  to  make  my  wants  known  by  a  faint  whisper, 
and  on  that  day  I  was  transferred  to  another  hospital. 
I  was  placed  in  a  motor  car  and  taken  to  the  railroad 
station,  about  half  a  mile  distant  and  there  loaded  on  to 
a  French  hospital  train,  our  destination  being  Tours. 
Before  the  train  pulled  out  of  the  station,  American 
Red  Cross  workers,  always  in  evidence  in  every  city  in 
France,  came  and  made  us  as  comfortable  as  possible. 
They  gave  us  coffee  and  doughnuts,  hot  chocolate  and 
cigarettes,  and  their  kindness  was  greatly  appreciated 
by  all  the  wounded  on  that  train. 

All  the  members  of  the  crew  of  the  train  were  French, 
and  there  was  also  several  French  surgeons  aboard. 
They  all  showed  much  interest  in  the  American  troops. 
They  asked  us  many  questions  about  America  and  the 
American  people.  The  fighting  qualities  of  our  boys 
were  highly  praised  by  them.  The  members  of  the  crew 
in  particular  were  interested  about  working  conditions 
in  America,  and  were  anxious  to  know  whether  or  not 
they  would  have  any  difficulty  in  getting  work  if  they 
came  to  this  country.  They  showed  plainly  that  they 
had    been    so    favorably     impressed    by   Americans    in 

Sixty-six 


France  that  they  had  a  longing  to  become  a  part  of 
this  great  nation. 

It  took  us  a  day  and  a  night  to  reach  Tours.  The 
journey  was  a  tiresome  one  and  we  were  glad  when 
the  train  finally  stopped  at  Tours.  Again  we  were  put 
on  motor  ambulances  and  taken  to  Base  Hospital  7, 
in  the  suburbs  of  the  city.  We  were  immediately  given 
a  physical  examination,  and  all  our  personal  effects,  in- 
cluding our  clothes,  were  taken  from  us,  except  a  few 
toilet  articles.  We  were  then  given  a  bath  robe,  a  towel 
and  soap  and  taken  to  a  warm  shower.  It  was  with 
great  delight  that  we  got  under  that  shower  and  enjoyed 
a  thorough  bath.  The  showers  were  of  American  make 
and  were  built  large  enough  so  that  twenty-five  or  thirty 
men  could  take  a  bath  at  a  time.  After  the  shower  we 
were  given  a  solution  to  rub  on  our  bodies  for  the  pur- 
pose of  killing  the  cooties.  The  time  had  come,  I  am 
glad  to  say,  when  we  and  the  cooties,  must  forever  part. 
But  the  cootie  in  the  front  line  trenches  was  not  alto- 
gether an  enemy.  That  may  sound  strange,  but  the  fact 
is,  when  we  were  fighting  the  cooties  and  chasing  them 
out  of  our  dug-outs,  our  minds  were  not  on  our  more 
serious  troubles  and  we  were  unmindful  of  the  dangers 
that  surrounded  us.  So  there  were  times  when  the  coot- 
ies were  really  friends  and  they  kept  our  minds  and 
hands  occupied. 

After  the  bath,  we  were  taken  back  to  the  ward  and 
were  not  allowed  to  have  any  clothes  for  three  days. 
This  was  probably  so  there  would  be  no  chance  of  a 
stray  cootie  getting  into  our  new  outfit.  When  three 
days  had  elapsed,  however,  we  were  given  slips,  which 
we  filled  out  in  accordance  with  our  needs.  When  I  got 
back  into  a  uniform,  life  at  the  hospital  was  more  pleas- 
ant. With  the  aid  of  crutches  I  was  able  to  move  around 
a  little  and  to  enjoy  the  company  of  other  boys.  The 
time  was  spent  in  playing  cards,  light  conversation,  and 

Sixty-seven 


other  amusements.  We  kept  our  minds  off  our  rough 
experiences  at  the  front. 

I  had  an  unusually  pleasant  experience  soon  after  I 
was  at  Tours.  A  Red  Cross  nurse  came  to  our  ward 
to  take  orders  for  our  small  wants,  such  as  candy,  cigar- 
ettes, tobacco,  writing  paper  and  such  articles.  She 
spoke  a  few  words  to  me  and  then  passed  on.  It  was 
the  first  time  I  had  spoken  to  an  American  girl  since 
leaving  the  United  States.  A  few  minutes  later  one  of 
the  boys  told  me  she  was  from  the  West  and  then  one 
said  he  thought  she  was  from  California.  I  could  not 
wait  until  she  came  to  bring  our  supplies,  but  immediate- 
ly started  out  to  look  her  up,  so  anxious  was  I  to  see 
and  talk  with  a  Californian.  I  found  her  and  told  her 
I  was  from  California  and  that  I  had  heard  that  she 
was  from  that  State,  too.  To  my  great  pleasure  and  sur- 
prise, I  learned  that  she  was  from  Sacramento,  my  home 
town,  and  that  she  was  acquainted  with  my  folks  and 
knew  of  me.  Her  name  is  Miss  Mae  Forbes,  and  after 
her  patriotic  work  in  France,  she  is  home  again  in  Sac- 
ramento. One  must  experience  the  delight  of  meeting  a 
charming  young  woman  from  his  own  town,  in  far-off 
France,  and  under  the  circumstances  that  I  did,  to  appre- 
ciate my  feelings  at  this  time.  It  is  an  experience  that 
I  will  always  remember  as  one  of  the  most  happy  of 
my  life.  It  was  only  a  few  days  later  that  I  made  my 
way,  without  the  aid  of  crutches  this  time,  to  the  Ameri- 
can Red  Cross  station  where  I  again  met  Miss  Forbes 
and  had  a  long  and  pleasant  chat  with  her  about  Califor- 
nia. Miss  Forbes  introduced  me  to  the  other  members 
of  the  station,  and  from  that  time  until  I  left  Tours,  it 
was  like  my  home.  I  spent  many  a  pleasant  hour  there 
and  its  memories  will  always  be  dear  to  me. 

I  was  in  the  hospital  at  Tours  on  November  11th,  when 
the  armistice  was  signed.  There  was  a  great  commotion 
in  my  ward  when  we  first  learned  the  news.  Most  of 
the  boys  were  glad  that  the  war  was  over  and  that  the 

Sixty-eight 


lives  of  so  many  boys  still  at  the  front  had  been  spared. 
Others  said  they  hoped  the  end  had  not  come  so  sudden- 
ly, as  they  were  anxious  to  recover  and  get  back  into  the 
front  line  to  take  another  crack  at  the  despicable  Huns. 

At  this  time  I  was  gaining  strength  rapidly  and  was 
able  to  get  around  fairly  well.  I  was  given  a  pass  out  of 
the  hospital,  and  with  two  other  boys  who  were  fairly 
strong,  we  went  into  the  business  district  of  Tours  to 
witness  the  celebration.  It  was  like  a  great  city  gone 
mad.  The  streets  were  crowded  with  civilians,  and 
everybody  was  waving  flags.  Most  people  had  a  French 
flag  in  one  hand,  and  the  flag  of  one  of  the  Allied  na- 
tions in  the  other.  The  American  flag  predominated 
above  all  other  Allied  flags ;  in  fact,  the  people  of  Tours 
seemed  to  be  very  partial  to  America.  "Vive  rAmerique" 
they  shouted,  "La  guerre  est  fini."  They  are  very  emo- 
tional and  demonstrative.  They  lined  the  sidewalks  of 
the  business  streets,  waving  their  flags  and  shouting  in 
their  native  tongue,  while  an  American  Marine  Band 
playing  patriotic  music,  marched  up  one  street  and  down 
another.  It  was  a  general  holiday  and  no  business  was 
done  that  day,  and  but  very  little  for  several  days  there- 
after. All  American  soldiers  in  the  city  were  lionized. 
When  a  group  of  enthusiastic  Frenchmen  would  get  hold 
of  a  buddy,  they  would  insist  on  taking  him  to  a  cafe 
and  buying  the  most  expensive  of  wines.  If  we  could 
have  conserved  all  the  liquor  the  French  were  willing 
to  buy  for  us  that  day,  dry  America  would  not  worry  us. 

I  was  seated  on  a  bench  in  one  of  the  parks  watching 
the  demonstration  and  contrasting  it  with  the  probable 
demonstrations  in  American  cities  on  that  day,  when 
two  flags,  one  French  and  the  other  American,  dropped 
over  my  shoulders.  I  straightened  up  and  the  next  thing 
I  knew  I  was  strongly  clasped  in  the  arms  of  a  beautiful 
young  French  girl,  elegantly  dressed  and  bewitchingly 
charming.  She  kissed  me  fervently  on  each  cheek.  The 
sensation  was  pleasant,  but  it  was  rather  embarrassing 

Sixty-nine 


inasmuch  as  it  was  in  full  view  of  hundreds  of  people 
who  were  celebrating.  If  the  shades  of  evening  had  been 
falling,  the  spot  more  secluded  and  the  number  reduced 
to  two,  it  would  have  been  more  to  my  American  tastes. 
However,  I  arose,  conscious  that  I  was  blushing,  and 
offered  the  beauty  my  hand.  She  could  scarcely  speak  a 
word  of  English  and  I  scarcely  a  word  of  French,  but 
we  managed  to  make  each  other  understand  that  it  was 
a  pleasurable  greeting.  She  was  soon  on  her  way  joy- 
fully waving  her  flags,  and  I — well,  I  charged  myself  up 
with  a  lost  opportunity  for  not  being  more  proficient  in 
the  polite  use  of  the  French  language. 

We  remained  in  the  city  until  9:30  that  evening,  and 
the  people  were  still  celebrating.  And  they  kept  it  up 
for  several  days  and  several  nights,  so  great  was  their 
joy  in  knowing  that  the  war  was  over  and  that  the 
enemy  had  been  crushed. 

My  stay  in  Tours  gave  me  some  opportunity  of 
seeing  this  ancient  city.  Tours  lies  in  the  heart  of  the 
Loire  Valley,  which  is  the  garden  of  France.  It  is  145 
miles  southwest  of  Paris  by  rail  and  is  on  the  left  bank 
of  the  Loire  River.  It  is  an  exceedingly  old  city  and 
has  an  interesting  history.  There  are  numerous  castles 
and  chateaux  in  the  vicinity,  which  in  peace  times  are 
visited  annually  by  thousands  of  tourists.  It  contains  a 
number  of  ancient  buildings  of  interest.  In  normal 
times  it  is  no  doubt  one  of  the  most  interesting  cities  in 
France. 

The  hospital  in  which  I  was  treated  was  a  very  large 
one,  in  fact,  it  was  a  great  institution  of  many  buildings. 
It  contained  forty-five  wards  of  fifty  cots  each.  It 
covered  a  large  area  and  had  every  comfort  for  the  men, 
such  as  a  motion  picture  house,  library,  reading  room,  etc. 

After  I  had  been  there  about  five  weeks  and  had 
regained  much  of  my  physical  strength,  the  authorities 
in  charge  began  to  classify  the  boys,  either  for  further 
duty,  or  for  shipment  home.    All  were  anxious  to  be  put 

Seventy 


in  class  D,  which  meant  the  United  States — God's  coun- 
try. Nobody  wanted  class  A,  which  meant  further  duty 
with  the  army  of  occupation,  and  another  year  at  least 
in  Europe.  It  seemed  very  much  like  a  lottery,  as  the 
boys  who  were  able  to  do  so,  walked  up  and  received 
their  classification.  I  was  exceedingly  happy  when  I 
was  given  class  D,  which  meant  that  nothing  would  stop 
me  from  seeing  "home  and  mother." 

After  being  classified,  we  were  notified  to  make  our- 
selves ready  for  a  trip  to  the  coast.  Although  we  were 
not  told  that  we  were  going  home,  we  knew  that  the 
good  old  U.  S.  A.  was  our  ultimate  destination.  So  I 
received  a  pass  and  made  my  last  visit  to  the  business 
district  of  Tours  for  the  purpose  of  purchasing  some 
souvenirs  of  France  for  the  women  folks  at  home.  The 
men  I  had  already  remembered  with  rings,  made  during 
my  convalescing  days  at  the  hospital  out  of  French  two- 
franc  pieces.  I  might  add  that  ring  making  was  a  favor- 
ite occupation  of  the  patients  and  we  spent  many  pleas- 
ant moments  working  them  out  sitting  on  our  cots, 
while  a  group  of  interested  buddies  would  sit  around 
and  watch  and  comment. 

I  found  it  no  easy  matter  to  make  my  purchases.  In 
the  first  place,  the  French  merchants,  knowing  that 
many  of  the  American  boys  had  money  to  spend,  asked 
about  four  prices  for  everything,  and,  secondly,  the 
French  methods  of  doing  business  are  quite 
different  from  our  own.  But  by  spending  practically 
the  entire  day,  by  attempting  Hebraic  methods  in  pur- 
chasing, and  by  pretending  that  I  had  only  a  few  francs 
to  spend,  I  managed  to  spend  about  $25  in  buying  the 
few  things  that  I  wanted  to  bring  home. 

I  was  then  ready  to  leave,  whenever  Uncle  Sam  was 
willing  to  take  me. 


Seventy-one 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Home  Again 

On  the  morning  of  December  11th  a  number  of  the 
boys  at  the  hospital  at  Tours  received  orders  to  prepare 
for  a  trip  to  the  coast.  This  was  the  most  welcome  news 
that  we  could  have  heard  and  we  hastily  got  our  per- 
sonal belongings  together.  It  was  about  10  o'clock  when 
we  were  placed  in  ambulances  and  taken  from  the  hos- 
pital. We  were  driven  to  the  railroad  station  about  a 
mile  distant,  and  there  assigned  to  quarters  in  an  Ameri- 
can hospital  train. 

This  was  the  first  American  train  I  had  been  on  since 
I  arrived  in  France,  and  it  certainly  was  a  great  relief 
to  me  to  know  that  we  were  not  to  be  crowded  into  one 
of  those  uncomfortable,  stuffy  and  tiresome  French 
trains.  The  American  hospital  train  furnished  an  ex- 
cellent example  of  American  efficiency,  and  when  con- 
trasted with  the  French  trains.  I  could  not  but  think  how 
much  more  progressive  our  people  are  than  Europeans. 
We  had  everything  that  we  needed,  and  plenty  of  it.  We 
enjoyed  good  beds,  good  food,  and  sufficient  room  to 
move  around  without  encroaching  upon  the  rights  and 
the  good  natures  of  others.  We  pulled  out  of  Tours 
with  no  regrets  on  what  was  our  most  enjoyable  train 
trip  while  in  France.  It  was  enjoyable  for  two  reasons — 
first,  we  were  traveling  in  comfort  and  as  an  American 
is  used  to  traveling,  and  secondly,  we  were  traveling 
toward  home. 

The  trip  down  the  Loire  Valley  followed  practically 
the  same  route  that  we  took  on  our  way  from  Brest  to 
Tours.  The  scenes,  of  course,  were  very  much  the  same, 
except  that  the  country  now  wore  its  winter  coat,  while 
it  was  mid-summer  on  my  previous  trip. 

We  arrived  in  Brest  on  December  13th,  and  to  our 
surprise,  we  learned  that  President  Wilson  had  just 
previously  landed  there,  and  the  city  had  gone  wild  with 

Seventy- two 


enthusiasm  over  him.  A  tremendous  crowd  gathered  at 
the  station  to  greet  him.  Bands  were  playing  and  the 
occasion  was  a  gala  one.  Our  train  stopped  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  away  from  the  station,  where  the  Pres- 
ident greeted  a  mass  of  French  people  and  American 
soldiers.  I  regret  very  much  that  I  was  unable  to  get  a 
view  of  the  President  while  he  was  at  Brest;  that  was 
not  my  fortune.  We  did,  however,  see  his  train  pull  out 
on  its  journey  to  Paris. 

Soon  after  we  arrived  at  Brest  we  were  told  that  we 
would  be  taken  back  on  the  "George  Washington,"  the 
liner  upon  which  President  Wilson  crossed  the  Atlantic, 
and  great  was  our  joy.  However,  we  were  soon  doomed 
to  disappointment,  for  orders  were  changed,  and  we 
were  taken  to  the  Carry  On  Hospital,  just  out  of  Brest. 
The  ride  to  the  hospital  was  a  disagreeable  one,  as  it 
had  been  raining  and  the  streets  were  muddy  and  wet. 
The  ambulance  rocked  more  like  a  boat  than  a  motor 
car.  We  were  assigned  quarters  and  given  food.  We 
met  a  number  of  boys  in  the  various  wards  who  were 
awaiting  their  time  of  departure.  We  asked  them  about 
how  long  it  was  after  arriving  at  Brest  before  soldiers 
were  embarked  for  home,  and  they  said  the  time  varied 
all  the  way  from  three  to  thirty  days.  That  was  not 
very  encouraging  and  we  were  hoping  that  in  our  case 
it  would  be  three  days.  The  very  next  morning,  how- 
ever, a  number  of  our  boys  received  orders  to  get  ready 
to  depart.  I  was  not  included  among  them,  to  my 
sorrow,  and  had  no  idea  how  long  I  might  be  kept  at 
Brest.  It  was  only  a  day  or  two  later  when  we  were 
made  happy  by  the  news  that  our  time  to  depart  had 
come.  It  was  joyful  news  and  made  our  hearts  beat  with 
the  joy  that  only  a  returning  soldier  knows. 

We  were  loaded  on  the  hospital  ship  "La  France," 
which  is  a  beautiful,  four-funnel  French  liner,  796  feet 
in  length.  It  was  the  third  largest  liner  in  use  in  trans- 
porting troops  at  that  time.    We  took  our  places  on  the 

Seventy-three 


boat  about  noon,  but  the  big  ship  laid  in  the  harbor  all 
afternoon,  and  it  was  not  until  about  sundown  that  she 
started  to  pull  out  and  we  bade  "good-bye"  to  "la  belle 
France."  One  might  think  that  there  was  a  lot  of  cheer- 
ing when  the  boat  pulled  out  on  the  eventful  afternoon 
of  December  17,  1918,  but  there  was  not.  Some  of  the 
boys,  it  is  true,  cheered  heartily.  Most  of  us,  however, 
were  too  full  of  emotion  to  become  wildly  demonstra- 
tive. Our  thoughts  were  on  home,  the  folks  that  are 
dear  to  us,  and  our  beloved  native  land,  and  our  emotions 
were  too  strained  for  expression  in  cheers. 

The  vessel  was  manned  by  French,  who  treated  us 
splendidly  for  the  first  two  days  out.  After  that,  how- 
ever, they  began  to  skimp  on  our  food  and  to  give  us 
things  of  poor  quality.  For  instance,  we  were  given 
coffee  without  sugar  or  milk,  cereals  of  poor  quality 
without  even  salt  in  them,  and  no  fruit,  though  it 
was  understood  that  fruit  was  to  be  a  part  of  our  diet. 
The  boys  complained  bitterly  at  this  treatment,  and 
finally  our  officers,  knowing  that  we  were  not  being 
properly  fed,  made  an  examination  of  the  ship.  They 
found  several  hundred  boxes  of  apples  that  were  sup- 
posed to  be  for  us,  stowed  away  in  the  hold.  It  had 
been  the  intention  of  the  French  in  charge  of  this  boat 
to  steal  that  fruit,  evidently  to  sell  it,  at  the  expense  of 
the  wounded  American  soldiers  on  this  hospital  ship, 
who  had  fought  and  saved  their  country  from  the 
Hunnish  hordes.  We  had  been  cheated  and  overcharged 
for  everything  we  purchased  in  France,  and  we  knew  it, 
but  it  surely  did  hurt  when  we  were  thus  treated  by  men 
whose  homes  we  had  saved  at  the  cost  of  our  blood.  I 
will  say  this :  We  did  not  hold  this  kind  of  treatment 
against  the  French  people  as  a  whole,  but  to  individuals 
who  are  so  unprincipled  and  so  greedy  that  they  are 
willing  to  sacrifice  the  fair  name  of  their  people  for  a 
paltry  gain.  I  might  add  here  that  it  was  the  smallness 
of  some  of  the  individual  "Y"  workers  that  brought  the 

Seventy-four 


Y.  M.  C.  A.  into  such  disrepute  among  the  American 
soldiers  in  France.  This  simply  shows  how  important 
it  is  for  an  individual  to  sustain  the  reputation  of  his 
country,  or  his  association,  as  the  case  may  be,  by  honor- 
able conduct. 

After  our  officers  uncached  the  horde  of  stolen  apples 
in  the  ship's  hold,  we  were  well  fed  and  on  the  last  two 
days  of  the  journey  had  no  complaint  to  make  on  this 
score. 

On  December  24th  at  10  a.  m.  some  far  sighted  in- 
dividual shouted  "Land"  and  what  a  welcome  word  it 
was.  Columbus,  watching  from  the  deck  of  the  Santa 
Maria,  was  not  more  happy  when  he  first  set  eyes  upon 
the  faint  outline  of  the  new  world  than  we  were  as  the 
dim  blue  shoreline  began  to  rise  upon  the  horizon.  There 
was  a  mad  rush  to  the  deck  and  everybody  who  could 
get  out  was  soon  watching  over  the  rail.  It  was  not 
long  before  the  Statue  of  Liberty  came  into  full  view 
and  there  was  joy  in  our  hearts  for  we  knew  that  at 
last  we  were  home. 

In  a  very  few  minutes  our  ship  stopped  and  a  pilot 
was  taken  aboard  to  guide  the  great  vessel  safely  into 
the  harbor.  Next  we  were  greeted  by  a  yacht  that 
steamed  out  beside  us  carrying  a  great  sign,  "Welcome 
Home."  It  was  the  24th  of  December,  and  this  boat 
carried  a  large  Christmas  tree,  typical  of  the  season. 

As  we  entered  the  harbor,  we  were  given  a  wonderful 
welcome.  It  seemed  as  though  every  whistle  in  the  great 
city  of  New  York  had  been  brought  into  action  to  make 
noise  on  our  account.  Certainly  every  boat  in  the 
harbor  from  the  smallest  tug  to  the  trans-Atlantic  liners 
was  blowing  a  blast;  and  the  noise,  though  of  an  entirely 
different  character,  was  as  deafening  as  that  of  a  battle. 
Every  window  of  all  the  great  buildings  that  make  up 
that  wonderful  skyline  of  New  York  was  filled  with 
patriotic  citizens  waving  a  welcome  to  us.  It  was  a 
great  sight  and  one  that  the  boys  will  never  forget.    It 

Seventy -five 


seemed  so  good  to  see  our  own  people  again — our  pretty- 
girls,  our  fond  fathers,  our  dear  mothers,  our  elderly 
folks,  and  even  our  street  gamins.  It  gave  us  a  feeling 
that  we  would  like  to  take  them  all  in  our  arms,  for 
they  were  ours  and  we  were  theirs.  I  knew,  of  course, 
that  there  would  be  none  of  my  folks  to  meet  me,  as 
my  home  is  in  California,  but  it  did  me  good  to  see  the 
other  boys  meet  and  greet  their  mothers,  fathers,  sisters 
and  sweethearts. 

We  started  disembarking  at  2  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
I  was  on  the  top  deck  and  did  not  get  off  until  9  o'clock, 
being  among  the  last  to  leave  the  ship.  We  were  taken 
on  a  ferry  to  Jersey  City,  where  we  were  entertained  and 
given  food.  Later  in  the  evening  we  were  taken  to 
Camp  Merritt,  New  Jersey,  by  train.  It  did  seem  good 
to  ride  on  a  real  American  train,  on  American  soil,  and 
among  our  countrymen.  We  arrived  at  Camp  Merritt 
at  11  o'clock  at  night  and  I  was  taken  to  the  hospital. 
I  was  assigned  to  a  ward  and  after  getting  comfortably 
fixed  was  given  a  real  American  meal,  and  you  may  be 
sure  that  it  was  thoroughly  enjoyable.  We  had  to  stay 
in  the  barracks  the  next  day  to  undergo  a  physical  ex- 
amination and  for  the  further  purpose  of  taking  pre- 
cautions against  the  persistent  cooties — some  of  the  boys 
having  encountered  them  on  the  boat. 

The  spirit  of  Christmas  was  everywhere  manifest,  and 
certainly  I  could  have  had  no  Christmas  present  better 
than  to  arrive  in  America  on  Christmas  eve.  The  Red 
Cross  brought  us  boxes  of  good  things  to  eat  and 
Christmas  presents,  and  the  people  entertained  us  won- 
derfully. They  took  us  on  automobile  rides  in  their 
private  cars,  to  dinners,  to  theaters,  etc.  Their  hospital- 
ity was  of  the  real  American  sort  and  it  was  deeply 
appreciated  by  the  boys. 

At  the  very  first  opportunity  after  reaching  camp,  I 
sent  a  telegram  to  my  parents  in  Sacramento,  telling 
them  that  I  had  arrived  safely.    I  received  an  answer 

Seventy-six 


saying  that  all  at  home  were  well,  that  same  day,  and 
it  was  a  welcome  message.  It  was  the  first  word  I  had 
heard  from  home  since  I  had  been  gassed  and  wounded 
in  October.  I  had  been  transferred  from  place  to  place 
so  frequently  that  my  mail  never  quite  caught  up  with 
me.  It  kept  following  me  around,  and  I  did  not  get  all 
my  letters  until  some  weeks  after  I  arrived  home. 

I  was  in  Camp  Merritt  for  a  month  and  five  days,  and 
during  that  time  I  had  an  excellent  opportunity  of  seeing 
New  York.  I  made  several  trips  to  the  metropolis  and 
enjoyed  seeing  the  points  of  interest  of  that  great  city. 

While  at  the  camp  I  met  Harry  Nauman,  a  Sacramento 
boy,  and  greatly  enjoyed  the  pleasure  of  his  company. 
From  my  folks  I  heard  that  James  Brenton,  my  room 
mate  at  college,  was  also  there.  I  looked  him  up  and 
was  fortunate  in  finding  him.  We  spent  three  or  four 
pleasant  days  together  before  we  departed  for  California. 

On  the  first  day  of  February,  I  left  the  camp  and  was 
sent  to  the  Letterman  Hospital  in  San  Francisco.  The 
trip  across  the  continent  was  uneventful,  except  for  the 
last  one  hundred  miles  of  the  journey.  At  Sacramento  I 
again  saw  my  folks  after  a  year  in  the  service  and  my 
father  and  mother  accompanied  me  to  San  Francisco, 
making  the  ride  most  enjoyable  as  Dad  related  all  the 
local  happenings  during  the  long  time  that  I  was  away. 
I  spent  several  days  in  the  Letterman  Hospital  and  was 
then  honorably  discharged  from  the  service. 

I  have  endeavored  to  relate  in  a  general  way  many  of 
my  experiences.  I  have  not  told  all.  Some  of  the  more 
gruesome  occurrences  I  have  left  untold,  not  believing 
that  any  good  would  come  of  their  repetition. 

I  can  honestly  say  that  I  am  glad  that  I  went  to  war 
and  that  I  fought  for  my  country.  The  experience  was 
of  untold  value  to  me,  as  it  gave  me  a  broader  and  more 
serious  view  of  life.  Notwithstanding  all  the  horrors  of 
war,  if  called  upon  again,  I  would  willingly  go.  I  am 
ready  to  serve  my  country  any  time  it  calls.    We  have  a 

Seventy-seven 


wonderful  country  and  a  wonderful  people.  I  realize 
that  now  more  than  I  did  before  we  went  to  war.  My 
rather  limited  observations  lead  me  to  believe  that  we 
are  far  ahead  of  any  European  country.  If  Americans 
live  for  America,  if  they  put  country  above  self,  if  they 
obey  the  laws  and  become  acquainted  with  all  the  won- 
ders of  their  own  land,  this  nation  will  make  even  greater 
progress  in  the  future  than  it  has  in  the  past.  The  war 
brought  out  a  wonderful  spirit;  let  our  spirit  in  times  of 
peace  be  just  as  patriotic. 


Seventy-eight 


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